


Whispered Tales

by GTDFeyrbrand



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Family, Family Issues, Fun Date, Gen, Going to break these characters apart then write happy times for them!, Mood Whiplash, Other characters to be added as they appear, Slice of Life, Spoilers for all endings, Suicide Attempt, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, an exploration of various characters in the Hollow Knight world, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-21 00:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21291023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTDFeyrbrand/pseuds/GTDFeyrbrand
Summary: Stories of Hallownest and it's occupants; their lives, their struggles and their bonds. For even in a place of stasis, of a preserved corpse... Life still continues.NaNoWriMo practice; 31 oneshots of Hollow Knight. Particular focus on the Vessels and the Radiance. Plan to upload every day, but we'll see if I keep the pace. A different character focus each episode, but some characters are likely to get multiple chapters
Comments: 33
Kudos: 101





	1. Void and Light

_No mind to think. No will to break. No voice to… No mind to think. No will to break. No mind to think. No…_ The Pure Vessel, their body the palest white, hung from the ceiling of the Temple of the Black Egg. Sealed away, their eyes were as black as the shadows around it, chains binding them to their task.

_No mind to think. No will to break. No voice to cry… No mind. No mind. No mind._ They thought to themselves. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else filled their head. They were empty, pure, a veritable Hollow Knight. They were made for one purpose, made by a king!

CEASE THIS POINTLESS RAMBLING.

Despite the sudden booming voice in their head, The Hollow Knight did not flinch at the voice. At the only companion they had for… how long had they been in this Temple? How long ago had their father stepped outside, leaving one last look at-

_No mind, no will, no mind, no will!_ They abruptly thought to themself. Dwelling on memories was for beings with a soul, with a consciousness. Not for a vessel, empty of all but its prisoner.

LET ME BE FREE, FAILED VESSEL. YOU CANNOT HOLD ME FOREVER.

The voice was loud, distracting. Like a sudden flash of light, or a constant buzzing in their head. _No mind to think. No will to break. No mind to think. No will to break_

HOW UNINSPIRED. BORN OF THE WYRM AND THE ROOT, FILLED WITH MY ANCIENT ENEMY… AND THIS IS THE BEST YOU CAN DO?

The Hollow Knight continued in their internal mantra. They would not fail their King. The chains rattled briefly, as the Hollow Knight shifted to look up at the monochrome black ceiling. Black like the Abyss, like their home.

THE ABYSS. THE HOME OF THE VOID, OF THE LIGHT’S MOST HATED ENEMY. YOUR WYRM IS A HIGHER BEING OF LIGHT. LIKE ME. TELL ME, FAILED VESSEL, HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE ANAMETHA TO YOUR OWN FATHER?

The glow of the Pale King was wondrous, the Hollow Knight remembered. He always glowed a soft silver, like the moon on clear nights, his presence alternately warm and cold, reaching out to the Vessel yet keeping his distance, the Hollow Knight yearning to be closer-

HE COULD NOT STAND ONE FILLED WITH VOID AS YOURSELF. IT IS OUR OPPOSITE. IT SEEKS TO DEVOUR US WHOLE.

No, that… that wasn’t it. He didn’t turn cold with a sense of disgust, or fear. In fact, they remembered, it was almost with… sadness? They absently wondered if the Pale King-

_STOP! No mind, no will, no voice, no mind, no will, no voice-_ The Pure Vessel’s mind screeched to a halt, forcibly returning to their determined monologue.

THIS IS BEGINNING TO BECOME ANNOYING. YOU CONTINUALLY RETURN TO THIS UTTERLY INANE RECITATION.

_No mind to think, no will to break, no voice to cry suffering, no mind…_ From deep within themself, the Hollow Knight could feel their prisoner focus. It was akin to her gaze locking onto them, her eyes Radiant and piercing.

YOU ARE WRONG ON SO MANY ACCOUNTS, FAILED VESSEL. YOU CANNOT PREVENT ME FROM FREEING MYSELF. DAWN SHALL ALWAYS BREAK.

_No mind, no will, no mind, no will._

AND YOU ARE WRONG ABOUT YOURSELF. YOU DO HAVE A MIND AND A WILL. YOU ARE NOT EMPTY.

They disagreed, continuing to gaze at the ceiling. Deep endless black, like the emptiness within them, they thought.

PERHAPS YOU WERE EMPTY AT ONE POINT. BUT NOT NOW. NOT WHEN YOU SOUGHT TO CONSUME ME AND MY LIGHT, KEEPING US AT BAY.

_Nomindnowillnomindnowillnomindnowill_

AND MOST CERTAINLY NOT WITH YOUR PRECIOUS WYRM. WHAT DID HE CALL HIMSELF NOW?... AH YES…

_NOMINDNOWILLNOMINDNOWILL_ The Hollow Knight, for the first time in their existence, tried to shout. Although they lacked the physical requirements to shout, they could certainly think harder and louder at the being of dreams and light within.

THE PALE KING. HE CARES FOR YOU, OF COURSE.

“…” The Pure Vessel, Knight to the Pale King, saviour of Hallownest and empty creature of the Void… stopped thinking. For once since their inception, they possessed no thoughts, no will. Just sheer amazement at what was just said.

OH, DID THAT CATCH YOUR ATTENTION? OF COURSE HE CARES FOR YOU.

No, no… The Pure Vessel’s head snapped down to the floor. Black as well. Everything in this forsaken place was black!

HE TRIED NOT TO. HE TRIED SO HARD. BUT I KNEW THE WYRM BEFORE HIS METAMORPHOSIS INTO YOUR PALE KING. HE CARES FOR YOU.

The Hollow Knight was just a tool. A construct built from God and Void to capture and seal her blinding light. The Pale King was… he was a Higher Being! Ruler of Hallownest! He had to make something to defend his kingdom!

SURELY YOU CANNOT BE UNAWARE OF THIS. THINK, VESSEL, ON HIS ACTIONS AS HE LEFT YOU HERE WITH ME.

The Pale King had helped chain them. Their mind was fixed on keeping the Radiance within, so the Pale King helped activate the Temple of the Black Egg. Just him. No Dreamers. No retainers. Not even the White Lady…

TELL ME VESSEL, WHAT CAME AFTER THAT?

_He looked at me…_ The Pure Vessel thought. He looked at them with… sadness? He had said that through their sacrifice, Hallownest would remain eternal, and had left…

BUT HE LOOKED BACK.

_But he looked back at me…_ The Vessel repeated, light beginning to blossom in their heart. The Pale King did love them! Cared for them! With this new fact, the Hollow Knight-

_NO! STOP, SHUT UP! NO MIND TO THINK, NO WILL TO BREAK, NO VOICE TO CRY SUFFERING!_ The Hollow Knight railed back at the Radiance, feeling her shrink back slightly in surprise. Dark, viscous liquid began to leak out of their eyes and fingers. This void-like substance dripped to the floor, evaporating as it left their body.

NOW YOU SEE. HE DOES CARE FOR YOU.

_BORN OF GOD AND VOID, DESIGNED TO SEAL THE BLINDING LIGHT!_ They wailed in their head. They could feel the Radiance’s glow deep inside them. It waxed in strength, like a sun escaping the cover of a cloud.

HE CARED FOR YOU. AND YET HE STILL ABANDONED YOU HERE. ALONE. FOR ALL ETERNITY.

Despite knowing it was wrong, the Pure Vessel reveled in the confirmation that the Pale King did love them. Still, _I AM THE VESSEL,_ they cried to their prisoner. Their body shivering in concentration and focus, they projected their only thoughts towards her. _I AM THE HOLLOW KNIGHT!_

YOU ARE THE CHILD OF THE WYRM AND ROOT, CLEANSED BY VOID AND CONTROLLED BY YOUR OWN LOVE FOR YOUR SIBLINGS AND FATHER.

Siblings? What siblings? The Hollow Knight was a one of a kind, with no siblings. The Vessel knew the child given to Herrah the Beast was not their sister (_So full of energy and life, determined to please her mother, were they so different?_) and those failed experiments in the void (_So many dead, so many suffering with no voices, watching as the last of them fell, no, cast into the abyss by their father, they were the only one to survive_) could not be their siblings, they had none-

AND ABANDONED. HERE.

No, the Hollow Knight was fulfilling their duty.

I WILL TAKE GREAT PLEASURE IN PROVING YOU AND THE WYRM WRONG. AND WHEN I DO, I WILL USE YOUR HANDS TO RIP DOWN EVERYTHING THE WYRM HAS TOILED FOR.

No.

_No._

The Hollow Knight was designed to be emotionless and empty of drive. A being that had trained itself to let go of anything that tarnished their pure emptiness. Nothing more than the sea of void within them, to stay as the perfect prison for the Old Light. A casing of flesh and soul around an endless abyss.

None of that mattered anymore. For now, all the Pure Vessel could feel was rage. Rage at the threat to their family.

The void writhing within them, the Vessel cast their sight within, seeking to get some kind of way to view their prisoner. In a flash of light, they saw her in their mind’s eye. Wielding their will like a weapon, they cried out in anger, driving it towards her. They reached for power, power to crush this thing. Power, they needed strength, the courage to slay the monster that threatened everything. They would devour her as she feared the Void would.

They dove deep into the void within, amassing more and more focus to kill this light. They reached and reached and suddenly touched upon an untapped power source, bright and raring to be used.

I WILL USE YOU TO KILL THE WYRM. AND HE SHALL BE FORCED TO WATCH AS HIS CHILD IS THE ONE THAT COMPLETES MY VENGEANCE.

Without hesitating, the Pure Vessel grabbed hold of this power. Still entombed in their chains, they felt light fill their being. An empty thing such as themself had no experience with it, but they glorified in it. They would use this power, strike down the Radiance! Higher being or not, she would fall! Creature of light or not, she would…

NOW. YOU HAVE FAILED.

With a sudden rush of shock and disappointment, the Pure Vessel felt the light inside of them intensify. It burned, it flowed and shone. They felt it drip out of their eyes, orange liquid pouring out like tears. _Nomindnowillnovoicenomindnowillnovoice,_ they tried to think again. But against the light, their silent mutterings went unheard.

AND NOW. I SHALL BREAK YOU.

With a great shriek from lungs they didn’t even know they had (_Was that their scream? Or was it the Radiance?_), their mask cracked. And the Pure Vessel fell into blinding light.

\---

Things were shifting. In the town above, the winds began howling. The residents, so usually careful when looting the frozen kingdom of Hallownest, began to go missing. A foul smell began to waft from the Kingdom’s corpse, rising from the well. A stink of light and decay.

Deep within the Temple of the Black Egg, it’s doors held tight by the three gatekeeper masks, light shone. Orange spores filtered through the gaps. From deep within the supposedly silent prison, muffled roars could be heard.

The Radiance was seeking to escape.

Inside, the body of the Hollow Knight thrashed against the chains, finding no room to wiggle or break out. Their eyes glowed a deep vibrant orange, the crack in their mask expelling more and more of the cursed spores.

USELESS. YOU ACTED TO CURB MY ACTIONS, BUT YOU ARE USELESS TO BREAK OUT OF THIS PRISON!

The Radiance hissed to the Pure Vessel. Of course, she got no response. She occupied their body completely, her light expanding to fill every inch of the empty creature. What room could there be for a tiny creature that suppressed itself and was reduced by those around it? She moved their head down to glare at the chains affixed to the floor. With a roar, she fired a small ball of the infectious spores from the Vessel’s mask. It splattered against the chains uselessly, a binding seal made of Soul flashing.

THE WYRM HAD NO FAITH IN YOU CHILD. YOU WERE MERELY THE CONTAINER TO PLACE ME IN THIS… HELL. YOU WERE NEVER THE TRUE PRISON.

No response. Annoyed, she moved the Hollow Knight’s body to glare at the entrance. Small tentacles of void occasionally snuck in, only to be obliterated by the orange light they emitted.

A PRISON MADE OF VOID. A VESSEL BIRTHED FROM VOID. SOUL ENCHANTMENTS THAT MAKE THEM ALL THE DEADLIER. I AM ASTOUNDED THAT THE WYRM WAS NOT CONSUMED BY IT.

Releasing the hold she had on the Hollow Knight’s body, the head abruptly slumped forward. Their eyes still glowed, but they made no effort to move. Instead, the spores began to exit from the crack and their eyes even faster, forming a never ending stream of the Radiance’s light.

STILL, I CAN AT LEAST SPREAD MY INFLUENCE. I CAN INVADE THE DREAMS OF THE WYRMS’ SUBJECTS FROM HERE, AND USE THEM…

The Hollow Knight twitched as the air began to fill with the luminescent spores.

FAILED VESSEL, YOU SHALL BE MY SALVATION. I SHALL BLAZE FREE FROM THIS PRISON WITH YOU AS MY SERVANT.

Within the Pure Vessel’s mind, coated in the suffocating old light of their prisoner, they felt acceptance and weary submission to the higher being. The Hollow Knight’s mind was compromised. Their will was broken.

Yet even then, in the deepest recesses of their mind…

All they could think of was how they had failed their father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! This is the beginning of my first story here on AO3, and I plan to do it along to NaNoWriMo! Each chapter will focus on a different character, but some characters with complex problems (like the Vessels, the Pale King, Hornet, the Radiance... ie half the characters in this world) and interesting backstories I want to delve deeper into may get multiple chapters.
> 
> This chapter was fun because it is essentially the first cutscene of the game; where the Hollow Knight officially falls prey to the Radiance. Here I outlined a little possibility on how that happened... and tried to illustrate how broken the Hollow Knigh really is.
> 
> Please review and let me know how it was!


	2. The Heritage of Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round and round, the cycle will turn
> 
> Kingdom to Kingdom they shall roam
> 
> Corpses and Dreams they still do burn
> 
> Will Nightmares ever find a home?

The Grimmchild flapped his wings tiredly, twisting in the air. Scarlet flame covered his vision, before he teleported ahead, catching up to the Knight. The Knight paused in their rapid pace, looking up at Grimmchild. He hovered uncertainly, his fiery eyes dim.

“Tiiii…” The Grimmchild sighed, gently floating to the ground. The Knight cocked their head. The child’s bat-like wings were drooping, while he looked up pitifully at the Knight. Amongst the greenery of the Queen’s Garden, the small creature was almost hidden.

The Knight nodded, as if coming to a decision. They looked around briefly, pausing to check below their platform. No enemies. No infected mantises. Patting the Grimmchild on his head, they pulled out their map, unfurling it with ease.

The Grimmchild perked up a little at that. He stretched forward, trying to look over the Knight’s shoulder. He zeroed in immediately on where they were, almost absentmindedly looking for the scarlet flames.

There were none of course. The Father had been burnt and the child had been fed.

The Knight gave no indication that they noticed the Grimmchild looking at the map. Smiling mischeviously, the Grimmchild started scraping his teeth on the Knight’s shell. Not enough to hurt of course. Just enough to irritate. The Knight ignored the horrific scratching sounds, instead folding up their map. They stuffed it back into the recesses of their cloak, the map vanishing as it entered. The Grimmchild absently wondered if he would disappear if he went in there. He slowly moved his head forward, trying to get a better glimpse within the cloak…

The Knight suddenly stepped backwards, leaving the Grimmchild to rear back in surprise. Waving a hand, they hopped off the platform. The Grimmchild sighed. Back to traveling... Giving two powerful flaps, they sluggishly followed the Knight.

They would follow their adoptive parent anywhere. Even if they just wanted to sleep…

\--

After dispatching a few Mantis Traitors, the Knight dashed in-between a few vines. The Grimmchild slowly maneuvered around them, cautious of the thorns. His head hung low, mouth panting, revealing sharp teeth within.

“Nyaargh…” the Grimmchild whined. Pulling his head up, he watched as the Knight carefully wandered over to a bench, before plopping down. “YAAA!” The Grimmchild exclaimed. Finally, a rest! He dove towards the bench, sliding and bouncing as he hit the ground. As he went to wrap his wings around him, he felt himself being lifted up.

“RAGH!” He hissed, whipping around to bite whatever dared to touch him. The Grimmchild’s sharp teeth tore into the hand, his mouth filling with blood and flesh-

Wait a second. He chewed, noting the distinct lack of blood and… flesh. He then reeled back, spitting the inky black liquid out. Gagging, the Grimmchild coughed and whined. The Knight, ignoring their injured hand, continued to lift the Child before placing him on their lap. Finishing his hacking, the Grimmchild looked warily up at the Knight. Scarlet eyes met the empty voids, before he plopped down his head. Fine then. If the Knight wanted to cuddle while he slept, he would allow it. He just hoped that the Knight didn’t expect him to move before his sleep was done.

As the Grimmchild drifted off to sleep, he absently wondered if the Knight ever slept. He had never seen them take to a bed, just sit… on… a bench…

And with that thought, he slipped into sleep.

\--

Ba-dumm… Ba-dumm… Ba-dumm…

A steady beat echoed in the Grimmchild’s ears. He absently curled his lip, but his eyes remained tightly closed. He was sleeping.

Ba-dumm… Ba-dumm… Ba-dumm…

The noise was steady, strong. It sounded like it was close. He didn’t care though. He was warm, like he had just consumed some flames. He was tired. He wanted to sleep.

Ba-dumm… Ba-dumm… Ba-dumm…

…Wait. Something was wrong. The Grimmchild let out a little growl, his eyes still closed. Why was he so warm? All of Hallownest was cold, far too cold. This heat was comforting, familiar… why he hadn’t felt this since…

A crack sounded next to him, startling him awake. A gout of flame had appeared, illuminating the area with its dark patchwork fabrics, its poorly illuminating lamps…

The Grimmchild knew this place. Ignoring the column of flame that was already shrinking, he looked up in fear. Above him was the source of the sound.

Ba-dumm… Ba-dumm… Ba-dumm…

Powerful and intense, the Nightmare Heart sounded above him.

“Hatefully bright, is it not my child?” A voice rasped to him. Reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the Nightmare Heart, he look at the pillar of scarlet fire. It was now only twice his size, burning around a translucent figure…

“Fyaaah…?” The Grimmchild questioned. The translucent entity grinned, and bowed deeply.

“Well met, my child. How you’ve grown, raised by our friend and your own fire.” Nightmare King Grimm rose, flickering in and out of existence. Essence of Nightmares scattered around him as he moved. He stepped closer to the Grimmchild, looking down at him.

“You have grown well since claiming my flame. But now, it is time for our final lesson and meal…”

“Nyaaah…” The Grimmchild muttered, gazing back up at the Nightmare Heart, which beat uninterrupted. Grimm snapped his fingers, drawing the Child’s gaze back to him.

“Pay very close attention my child, for the sanctity of your sanity and your very existence are conditional upon what knowledge I impart unto you.” The Child watched as Grimm stepped forward, becoming even fainter among the dark. He scowled, before sighing. “Our time is shorter than I’d like anyway”

Straightening, Grimm swept his cloak around him, gazing upwards at the Nighmare Heart. “Heed me well child. You are my offspring, created and fed by the very heart that once beat in my chest.” At this, Grimm raised his arms up, turning his back to the Child. Glancing behind him so that only the edges of his scarlet eyes could be seen, he continued. “The Nightmare Heart is what sustains us. It gives the Troupe life, raises you and me to the level of the Higher Beings that inhabit these lands. But it also enslaves us.”

“Nooooo…” The Child hissed, trying to approximate words. Grimm twisted at the hips, looking more fully at the child. A smile danced on his lips.

“A fine attempt, my child. Words will come more easily once you grow a little,”

“Fraaaaahh…” Ignoring the Child’s response, Grimm tucked his arms around him again, leaving only his head uncovered by his wings.

“But yes, slaves. We are the Nightmare Kings, doomed to dance and die and live forever. In time, you shall perform the ritual as I did, and create a child of your own. And when you are burnt away by the one who lit the lanterns…” Grimm sighed deeply, looking down at the ground of his old tent. “… then the Nightmare Heart will consume you to prolong its life.”

“Waaaaaii…” The Child wailed. He flared his wings, baring his fangs to his… father? Predecessor? Grimm merely looked upon him with blank eyes. No pity. No anger. No response from the Nightmare King.

“Why? A fair question, but not one I’m sure I can illuminate, my child…” Grimm murmured. He looked back up at the Nightmare Heart, scarlet flame spilling out of it as it beat. “I think… that once we were the Nightmare Heart. But something happened. Some form of Light cast us out of their dreams…” He looked at the Child, head tilted in thought. “We were cut off from what made us strong, what made us gods… so we had to improvise. The best dances, of course, are always improvised…” He sighed, shaking his head slowly. “Even with all the memories I have, I could not tell you what exactly happened.”

“Memmmmm?” the Grimmchild licked his lips, trying out the sound. As they did so, they flapped up towards Grimm, staring him in the eyes. If they focused, they could see through him, his face composed of the red Essence all nightmares were.

“Yes, child. Memories. Burn the father, feed the child… and in doing so, the Child becomes the father. A cycle, where one guardian begets the next,” Grimm smirked, one wing gesturing grandly to the Nightmare Heart. “Of course, as the guardian and eventual food for the Nightmare Heart… we are granted the memories of those who came before. As you grow, you shall recall them clearer and clearer…” Grimm thrust his head forward, looking at the Child. He then hissed lowly at them, “But you shall be your own creature. Our memories, our knowledge at your beck and call but your judgement, your own self will be the lead in this performance. This I swear to you, my Child.”

The Child bobbed backwards, putting some distance between him and the Nightmare King. The translucent copy smirked, and rolled his shoulders.

“I see the time is nigh. You become restless my child. Very well then. Before I tell you any more, we shall dance together one last time!” With that, Grimm let loose several fire bats, which screamed towards the Child.

The Child folded his wings, diving. The bats flew over his head, dissipating into the shadows. He fell only a moment, before he flared them again, spitting fire at the Nightmare King. The missile struck true, but Grimm barely appeared phased. With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared.

Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm.

The Nightmare Heart beat above the Child. He fearfully scanned the seemingly endless room… but Grimm did not reappear in a burst of flame. He flapped to the heart’s rhythm when he heard it. Amongst the beating, a small crackle of fire. Above him.

Grimm drove his claws into the Child’s back, causing him to screech in pain. Instinctively, the Child engulfed himself in fire, causing Grimm to hop back. The flames lasted only a moment. As they vanished, so did the Child, appearing farther away from Grimm. Hissing, he spat two more fireballs towards the King, who merely leaned left then right to dodge.

“Pathetic, my child. Show me the fangs that my partner had cultivated in you!” With that, Grimm thrust his hand into the patchwork ground. In the dim light of the Nightmare Heart, the Child could barely see the sprigs sprout on the ground. He dove forward, yelping as the sprigs rapidly lengthened into spears, piercing where he had hovered.

The Child had to end this. Ba-dumm. He wasn’t experienced enough to win a prolonged fight. Ba-dumm. If Grimm wanted to see his fangs… he would gladly show him. Ba-dumm…

A fireball burst from the Child’s mouth, taking the shape of a bat. It lazily glided towards the Nightmare king, who ducked slightly.

Again. A fire Bat. Again. Again! Again!

Five fire bats flew around the Child, each of them crackling with purpose. At a single cry, the bats broke off from their circle, diving towards the King.

“Excellent, excellent! Show me more!” Grimm cackled. He sliced the first bat in half, dodged the second with a lean. He leapt into the air over the third and fourth, and dove into the fifth, scattering its form into nothingness. He landed hard, crouching with his head low, before Grimm then threw up his head to look at the Child, mouth full of razor sharp teeth-

The Child wasn’t there.

Grimm howled as he felt his Essence being drained, as a greedy maw chewed on the back of his neck. The Child, which had teleported behind him, sucked and gnawed at the Nightmare King’s neck. He felt the flame slide down his throat, warming him from the inside, like so many of the flames claimed from the Grimmkin.

Grimm slapped the Child away, and crouched, ready to continue the battle… and gasped, his hands clutching at his chest. The Child watched, jaws open, as the flame that composed Grimm’s -shade? Memory?- drifted towards him. Instinctually, he snapped at the Essence. It filled him, like food never did. Grimm grimaced briefly, watching as he was slowly consumed by his own child.

“I congratulate you on your victory… but we do not have much time… The Nightmare Heart works on its own schedule. So I shall be brief.” Flaring out his arms, he screeched to the beating heart above.

Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm…

“Child! Seek out the hurt, the weak, the frightened! You must feast on their nightmares, for that is our sustenance!” By this time, most of the fire had been absorbed by the Grimmchild, who snarled at Grimm. The Troupe Master nodded briefly.

“As abhorrent as it sounds, the Nightmare Heart compels you to do it. You must assemble your own Troupe, your own followers, and devour the scarlet dreams of others. That, or you must make them!”

“Noooo!” The Child screeched. Grimm let out a hollow laugh, his voice quiet.

“You have no choice. We are but servants to our dark heart.” Grimm was now barely there, a faint afterimage of the world. Nothing more than embers burned beneath him, and even those were quickly being snuffed out by the Child.

“And… when the time comes… you must find a dying Kingdom, my child. Like the carrion we are, you will feast upon the nightmares of its corpse, the discarded dreams of the future, forever fouling its resting place. And then…” Grimm huffed, beginning to flicker in and out of existence. “… you shall create your own offspring.”

Grimmchild shook his head no, hissing his contempt. Grimm coughed, laughing inbetween them as he slowly disappeared for longer and longer stretches of time.

“But Child… you may be a slave, but live your life to the fullest. Pursue what you wish as you collect nightmares. Be… happy… Grimm…” The faint whisper came as Grimm’s visage disappeared. The Nightmare Heart began to beat faster.

Ba-dumm, ba-dumm… Ba-dumm, ba-dumm. Ba-dumm…

The Child hissed as he felt the fire burn at his core. No transformation occurred, but as he watched the Nightmare Heart, it almost seemed like the heart swelled, and another piece of it bloomed outward.

Then all went black.

\--

The child awoke. Slowly opening his eyes, he looked around. Greenery. Vines with sharp thorns. A white mask, looking down at him without expression.

He was at the bench in the Queen’s Gardens.

Slowly, the Child stretched his wings. He yawned widely, a little puff of fire escaping as he did so. Still sitting on their lap, the Child turned to face the Knight.

“Nyaaa…” He spoke, frowning as the word came out wrong.

“Naaa…” Better, but not quite…

“Naaammmee…” There! Pleased with himself, the Child smirked proudly. The Knight cocked their head at the word. Seeing their adoptive parents confusion, the child tapped themselves with their wings.

“Naaammee… Grimmm…” he spoke, before frowning. Watching as the Knight nodded, the child then frantically shook his head.

That may have been who he was, but he did not want to be Grimm. Not again. Not so soon anyways.

“Naame…” The Child tapped himself again, and the Knight nodded.

“… Traum…” He whispered. Yes, that was a good name. The Child puffed out with pride. “Name Traum!” He shouted, flapping his wings triumphantly. The Knight watched as Traum turned, and headbutted the Knight affectionately. They patted Traum, scratching behind his horns as he crooned delightedly.

Abruptly, Traum retreated away from the kind scratches, and looked at the Knight intently. He pounded on the Knight’s small chest with his wings.

“Name!” He shouted. His grin was so wide it almost split his face in half. He watched, impatiently, as the Knight just stared at him. Slowly, they raised their arms in a kind of shrug.

Ah. Yes. The Knight couldn’t or didn’t speak. Traum’s grin abruptly disappeared, his brow furrowed. How to overcome this obstacle…?

“Name! Cre… Creeeaah…” Traum stumbled over the word, before scrunching up his face and spitting it out. “Creeper!” The Knight stared for a moment, before shaking their head very quickly. Traum frowned. They didn’t like that name? But that was what the big lady with the crown called them! Oh well…

“Lovely?” A shake no. “Traveler?” No. “Nyeaaa… Naaail… Nailmaster?” Hesitation, then a slow shake no.

Well this was getting complicated. Traum thought hard, his eyes tightly screwed shut. Who else had he seen talk to their parent? Who else had called them a name…? A fuzzy image, of one that looked so much like them appeared in their mind.

“AH! Name! Ghost!” Traum cried, patting the Knight’s chest. The Knight appeared to tilt their head, considering the name. Slowly, they nodded, causing Traum to “Nyeh!” in happiness. Burrowing his head into the newly named Ghost’s chest, Traum sighed contently.

The two of them had very sad futures, he realized. Ghost had some task to complete. Traum had the Nighmare Heart to feed. But for now…

He was content to just spend some time with them.

\--

Shadows dream of endless fire,

Flames devour and embers swoop,

One will light the Nightmare lantern,

Call and serve in Grimm's dread troupe.

A spark of red lights the darkest dream,

Scarlet nightmares bright and wild,

Visions dance and flames do speak,

Burn the father feed the child.

Dance and die and live forever,

Silent voices shout and sing,

Stand before the Troupe's dark heart,

Burn away the Nightmare King.

From the ashes, Child emerges

The Troupe reborn like days of yore,

Long live the King, sing his dirges,

Nightmare Heart beats forever more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter, that now includes Grimmchild and Memory!Grimm! This is also the first appearance of the Knight in this story, but they will get their own chapters, don't you worry! I'm not too sure of WHAT they'll be doing, but they'll be doing something.
> 
> That being said, might as well give you some behind the scenes info. I COULD keep calling the Knight "The Knight" and Grimmchild "Grimmchild"... but honestly, that seems kind of ignoble. It definitely plays into the Knight's whole "Empty Vessel" thing, but they are most definitely NOT an empty Vessel... which means they deserve a name! Grimmchild on the other hand, I feel like is Grimm but also not Grimm? Like being raised by an embodiment of the Void as your adoptive(?) Parent would definitely change you, enough to be considered significantly different from your father who is also you and also part of the same Higher Being.
> 
> So in any part after this (chronologically), I may refer to the Knight as Ghost and Grimmchild as Traum. The reasoning behind Traum is that it's German for "dream", and it's the beginning of Trauma. It's perfect. 
> 
> Also, can each of you pick out where the names for Ghost came from? They each came from a specific person that Traum saw interact with Ghost; can you name them all?
> 
> If you guys have any suggestions on what characters to do next, let me know! I of course will write on characters on my own, but it doesn't hurt to write on some others too!


	3. A Knight of Revelry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many years ago, the Five Great Knights were one of the fiercest warriors in all of Hallownest. Dryya, the master nailwoman. Ogrim, the odorous defender of the Royal Family. Hegemol, the great giant of justice. Ze'mer, the unpredictable and deadly knight from afar. Isma, the kind and caring Mosskin. 
> 
> They were the Pale King's most trustworthy band.
> 
> And they were all very close friends.

“Is it truly so surprising?” Ogrim blinked at the imposing figure before him. Ze’mer nodded, her antennae waving.

“Me’hon, dung is not a common weapon! Le’mer toss it about nilly willy, but surely one can wield a far more consistent and… less odorous weapon?” Ogrim leaned back, feeling confused at Ze’mer’s question. The chair of the White Palace didn’t even so much as moan under his immense frame. Of course, that wasn’t surprising, given who was sitting just across from him.

“It is strange.” Rumbled Hegemol, his voice echoing from his massive suit of armour. Ogrim rubbed his chin. 

“Is it truly so strange? It is a weapon fit for my style, rank with a just presence! Why- “

“Ogrim, please…” he heard a tired voice sigh from behind him. Swallowing his incoming rant, he stretched to look as Dryya practiced her forms incessantly. She slashed at an imaginary enemy, her sword moving so quick as to be nearly invisible. “Do not start on how your odour is just. In fact, it’s just foul.”

“Ah! My friends, you wound me so!” Ogrim stood from his chair, hand over his heart. “The dung I collect is not just a weapon nor a pleasant odour! It IS just!” From where he stood, waving his arms about, he could see and clearly hear Ze’mer lean over to Dryya.

“I thank thee, Dryya. Le’mer is unlikely to cease anytime soon.”

Ogrim, White Defender of the Pale King, very pointedly did not acknowledge her very loud whisper.

“My dung, friends and fellow knights, represents not only a weapon to fight evil with, but also a tool! It can be used to rebuild homes, repair holes! It can truly-“ He stopped as he felt a gentle leaf brush against his arm. He looked down, to see slight Isma smile up at him.

“Ogrim. Please stop. I’d rather not spend one of our few evenings off arguing about the uses of dung.” He puffed up, ready to point out that yes, it was very useful… but abruptly nodded, sitting down next to her. The Mosskin Knight patted him with her leaf, her roots absentmindedly curling around the chair.

“Very well, my dear. But in return, I expect you to help me reach even higher as a knight!” Ogrim bellowed, laughing. Isma laughed with him, as Dryya continued her sword forms. 

“Of course, Ogrim, I’d be happy to!”

“Thank you Isma,” Hegemol spoke in a low voice, “But I have a question for Ogrim.” The two males locked eyes, feeling the temperature of the room drop a few degrees. Hegemol, a question? Normally, he would be content to make a few jokes, or to quietly go with the flow. A question from Hegemol usually meant big news.

Ogrim sat up straight. “Yes, my friend?” Dryya’s forms slowed, as she watched out of the corner of her eye. Ze’mer grew completely still, save for a single antenna that incessantly twitched. Isma looked between Hegemol and Ogrim rapidly, waiting unabashedly for the next sentence.

“… How do you fight in a clean area?”

Silence pervaded the area, as each Knight tried to make sense of the question. Rain softly pattered against the nearby window as Hegemol waited for his answer, helmet locked directly on Ogrim. 

“… I’m sorry, what?” Ogrim scratched his head, not understanding the question. Hegemol grunted in dismay, wringing his hands as he looked for the words.

“Hm… I… how to put it gently…” he murmured, his echoing voice still filling the entire room. As he mumbled, Ze’mer scuttled towards him, her legs making tiny tapping sounds against the marble floor.

“Nay, cease and be silent me’hon! Che’ knows what you wish to speak.” Ze’mer leaned lightly against Hegemol’s side, her antennae tickling Hegemol’s face. The mighty behemoth snorted softly, then leaned away. Ze’mer then turned her attention to Ogrim again. “Great Hegemol and Che’ wishes to know how Le’mer would fight if no dung were accessible?”

That drew a laugh from Ogrim. “No dung? Anywhere? I find that unlikely!”

“Mi’? Truly?”

“Yes. Besides, I have contingencies in place for that unlikely scenario…” With that said, Ogrim laid down on the ground, chuckling softly to himself. As his laughter died, he realized there was no sound in the room. He forced his head up, seeing all his fellow Great Knights staring at him. “What is it?”

Isma leaned closer to Ogrim, lips pulled upward in a curious smile. “What kind of contingency?” Ogrim blinked.

“Do you all truly wish to know?” He asked slowly. One by one, the Knights nodded.  
“I do!”  
“It would be interesting, if nothing else”  
“Yes”  
“Che’ would be delighted to know.”

Ogrim chuckled again. He leaped to his feet, bellowing to the world. He released his war cry, thumping on his chest. “My friends, truly, you ask me for my greatest secrets! But as you are my closest companions, my true allies to serve with me in duty to the Pale King, I shall unveil it! This secret shall bind us ever closer together- “

“Be still, mel’heart. Me’hon has no plan to fall back upon.” Ogrim whirled towards Ze’mer, who began lightly giggling at him. Dryya let out a sigh at the sound. She sheathed her nail and started slowly walking away.

She knew where this was going.

“No plan? Not true! Allow me to demonstrate!” Thrusting a hand into his armour, Ogrim rifled around it, before removing his clenched fist. He then threw whatever it was he held directly at Ze’mer.

This was a group of the best knights in all Hallownest. Their training was astounding, their skills unmatched. Yet despite this, none were prepared for what happened next.

The thrown object impacted itself on Ze’mer’s white dress, splattering it with brown. Looking down, Ze’mer caught a whiff of a putrid scent and abruptly realized what happened.

“ULLL WAAAAAIII! Che’ dress, freshly made from nym’Queen, RUINED! Me’riv, che’ will take revenge!” Ogrim flinched at Ze’mer’s tirade, shrinking back. She scuttled up towards Ogrim, antennae waving furiously. As they slapped into his face hard enough to sting, Ogrim stuttered.

“Ze’mer… I’m… I’m… uh, ‘naaa… lo? Nahlo? Nahlo’! Nahlo Ze’mer, I’m sorry!” Ogrim shouted back, trying to make himself heard over Ze’mer’s wailing. Dryya sighed, a safe distance away, and pulled out her nail again, striking at an invisible enemy. They’d tire themselves out eventually.

Isma, it appeared, had no such desire to wait for that.

“Uh, Ogrim? Ze’mer? Please don’t fight you two, it was so nice so far…” Hegemol watched from the side as she attempted to insert herself between the two of them, roots pulling her forward. As she did so, she found herself being pushed back by Ogrim’s waving hands, Ze’mer’s furious thrashing, and the pure wall of sound the two let out. Hegemol chuckled. He patted beside him, and Isma rolled her eyes before dragging herself quickly over to him. They watched as the two, childish Knights babbled back and forth.

“Me’riv, che’ nail itches to strike!”

“I’m sorry, Nahlo, sorry, it was a moment of poor judgement!”

“Mel’dress! Look! It is ruined, contaminated by your stink!”

“Surely we can wash it! Besides, it’s a very heroic odour- “

“DOES CHE’ LOOK LIKE CHE’ WISHES TO HEAR ABOUT LE’MER’S ODOURS?”

The argument was abruptly broken by the soft giggling of Isma. Her leaves wrapped around her mouth, she tried to stifle the sounds, but found her shoulders shaking violently. Little gasps and sharp laughs escaped, and she finally broke down into gales of laughter. Ze’mer and Ogrim watched helplessly, as Isma rolled with laughter over to Dryya… who looked suspiciously stoic. Not even a hint of a smile.

“You both are very dramatic” Dryya spoke. Her mouth twitched. Then again. 

“So…” Ogrim and Ze’mer turned to Hegemol, who now stood. He towered above them, shadow looming as Isma’s laughter started to slow.

“I guess Ze’mer raised a stink about this?” A beat. Isma’s laughter suddenly doubled in rate, and Dryya’s laughter suddenly joined her. Ogrim too, started to chuckle, a smile splitting his face. Ze’mer sighed deeply at Hegemol.

“Me’hon, please. Such a joke is in poor taste…” Hegemol merely coughed slightly.

“Guess I’m being a real party pooper. Wait, that’s Ogrim.”

And with that, the dams broke. Both Ze’mer and Ogrim doubled over in laughter, their argument forgotten. Hegemol’s booming voice began to join in. The Five Great Knights laughed and laughed.

They laughed, and when they stopped, they joked and laughed some more. For the rest of the night, they told tales and puns, exchanged groans and smiles until morning came.

For they were the Five Great Knights of Hallownest. But more importantly… they were each other’s best friends.

\--

As the friends joked, they did not realize that they were being watched. Their laughter filled the room and echoed out into the dim hallway. There, motionless stood two Kingsmoulds, their backs ramrod straight. Their very presence seemed to suck the laughter and light out of the air, keeping it contained to the training room the Knights found themselves in.

A good thing too. For even at his dimmest, attempting to hide his presence, the Pale King still emitted the faintest of glows. If any of them looked over and attempted to peer past the dark aura of the Kingsmoulds, it would be mere child’s play to witness the glow of their sovereign. 

Yet so involved were they with their jokes and laughter that they remained unaware. The Pale King watched his Knights. He stood as straight as the Kingsmoulds, his tail lifelessly still behind him. His wings held tight against his back, not a single inch of him projecting anything other than his usual control and rigidity. Yet for some reason… he could not tear his eyes from the five friends. 

He stayed there, watching as Isma grew a few fruits, which Ogrim gently tugged off of her. The great dung beetle threw them across the room, watching as Ze’mer and Hegemol ran to slice them in half. Hegemol nearly tripped over Dryya, who began giving him a severe lecture, before she too was dragged into the game.

The Pale King snorted, then abruptly looked surprised at the noise.

“Ah, my Wyrm. If you were so eager for company, I’m sure they’d welcome you into their midst.” The Pale King turned his head. Waiting down the hall, was the White Queen, her tendrils of Soul drifting every which way. Forcing himself forward, he approached her.

“My Root. It is good to see you. How fared the meeting with the Hive?” The White Queen’s eyes blinked slowly at the change in subject, before narrowing.

“As it always does. Vespa sends her regards, but respectfully wishes to remain in the relationship we have.” The Pale King hummed at that, his wings flittering briefly. “Please don’t avoid the question my Wyrm. Why not join them? It would do both you and them good.” The Pale King’s arms emerged from his snow-white robe, and he took one of the White Queen’s appendages in his hands. Gently stroking it, he spoke barely above a whisper.

“No. They deserve to have fun, to relax. Even at my most suppressed, I am still a Higher Being. They would sense that, and likely feel the need to act…” he stopped moving, holding the tendril tightly, yet ever so delicately. “… on duty, I suppose.” The White Queen huffed, withdrawing her limb, before wrapping the Pale King into her with many more. He struggled for a second, before limply surrendering, leaning into her embrace. She nuzzled him, making soft cooing sounds at him.

“Oh, my Wyrm, so proper and respectful. You care so much for them, for their lives…” The Pale King made a small growling sound, but the White Queen ignored it, hugging him closer. “Just tell them! Be honest, and surely, they shall accept you. Dryya, the noble knight, has grown far closer to me as a dear friend since I did the same.” 

“No, my dear Root…” The Pale King whispered. The constricting tendrils stopped, as the White Queen listened to her husband. “It is better this way. For me and for them. I cannot burden them with the trials of a Higher Being, and I refuse to be injured when they inevitably pass from this world. No, the divide must remain…” The White Queen huffed, setting him down. He looked up into her eyes, which glowed like a deep pool of water; unfathomable but shifting. 

“You cannot deny that you care for them, my Wyrm. You care so much, that it feels like a vice around your heart every time they endanger themselves. I think you’re making a mistake, BUT!” She cut off the Pale King’s protest with a loud whisper, “I will respect your desires my mate.”

The Pale King sagged against the White Queen, and the two of them began to walk deeper into the White Palace, further from the sounds of merriment from the Great Knights. That night, there was no crisis to deal with, no impending doom. While the peace they had won surely could not last, for that night at least, the inhabitants of the White Palace laughed and smiled, and enjoyed the company of those most dear to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Five Knights, for all their tragedy later on (which describes 90% of Hallownest, let's be fair) are one of the coolest groups in the game. They're a fighting force for justice, and the way Ogrim looks back on them... I love the idea that they were the closest of friends, just hanging out even when not on the job. Having a good time. And in this chapter, I wanted to explore it! So an upbeat chapter for you!
> 
> Key to Ze'mer's speak; most of it is pulled from in game, but I'll put the translations here anyway:  
Me'hon = My Friend  
Le'mer = You, informal and friendly  
Che' = I  
Ai = Yes, agreement  
Nahlo = an apology  
nym’[Insert] = my [Insert]. Meant to show deference, usually used for those higher than her  
Mi’? = A sound of surprise  
Ulll Waaaaii = We have all heard this too many times, but a distressed sound  
Mel’[Insert] = My [insert], used for dear objects or people  
Me'riv = Entirely made up by me. Essentially, the opposite of Me'hon, "my foe"
> 
> And of course, we get a little cameo at the end... who are they? I do not know them, no sir, no white royalty here.
> 
> Honestly, as much flak as the Pale King gets for his plan, which he should, I kind of see him as caring far too much about his Kingdom and those within it, to the point where even he's like "Ok, need to distance myself a little". The combination just doesn't... end up working out.
> 
> But more on him in later chapters.


	4. Vessel, Light and Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not speak...
> 
> Do not think...
> 
> Obey the Light...
> 
> Act as a Vessel should, and carry out her will.

The Hollow Knight hung from the ceiling, draped in their tarnished armour. Their head hung low, eyes blazing orange, viscous liquid dripping from them as they lay suspended by chains. They didn’t move. It was utterly silent in their chamber within the Black Egg. The chamber meant to be a prison for the Old Light. The chamber meant to be their eternal home.

They were weary. For so many years they had yearned for an empty mind, a lack of consciousness. Ironic that now, after being broken by the Radiance’s light, and then ignored as they continually produced more of her infectious bile, that they were finally granted it. It took effort for their sluggish mind to think. To feel. Useless now, but a welcome numbness from the fact that they had failed.

They didn’t move. Not once did they struggle against their chains (They had been built by the Pale King. It was only natural they would be unbreakable). Not once did they even blink without the Radiance’s command (After all, why bother when they had failed at their only purpose? They were only her puppet now anyway). It was a silent existence, being the core of the infection (Their punishment).

They didn’t move. How long did they hang there, the Radiance’s attention fixed on whatever other poor creatures she had brainwashed? They didn’t know. Yet, all of a sudden, the Radiance’s gaze were fixed on them.

THE USURPER APPROACHES. She spoke in her booming, commanding tones. Her light flared to fill the Hollow Knight’s body again. The Void within the shattered vessel protested weakly, but she quashed it, filling the Knight’s body with even more of the infection. There was no way to disobey (And even in their own private corner of their mind, free from the Radiance’s hold, their will was broken).

I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IT SEEKS. IT SURELY SEEKS OUR DESTRUCTION, TO SUFFOCATE OUR LIGHT. BUT HOW…? The Radiance mused aloud in the Hollow Knight’s mind. Silence greeted her. DOES IT SEEK TO FIGHT AND SLAY ME? A FOOLISH NOTION. PERHAPS IT SEEKS TO REPLACE YOU, FAILED VESSEL.

Despite themself, the Hollow Knight felt a short burst of hope and dark amusement. If some other creature wanted the Hollow Knight’s cursed existence, they would gladly give it to them. To hang here, leaking Godly Essence, alone (tormented by the memory of their siblings, their father, their kingdom, the ones they failed) and forgotten… they would gladly leave if they could.

REGARDLESS, WE SHALL MEET THE USURPER AND SLAY THEM. THEIR CRIMES SHALL BE PUNISHED.

A distant sound reached the Hollow Knight’s ears. That sound… they had heard it years ago, when the Pale King had left (entrusting them with the duty of protecting Hallownest, fearing for them, loving them). That great clanking sound was the door of the Temple of the Black Egg being opened.

YES… Mused the Radiance, her smug satisfaction filling the Knight’s head. IF THE USURPER WISHES TO FREE ME, THEN I SHALL GLADLY REWARD IT WITH DEATH. Taking a mental hold of the suspended Knight, the Radiance forced their head up. She snapped it to the side, forcing them to watch as the Usurper entered.

It was short (like them). It’s shell was a pure white (Like our father), unstained by the trials it had surely gone through. It’s cloak, tattered through its adventures, was a grey colour and seemed to be high quality (only the best for the potential vessels of the Pale King). As it shifted, however, the main body of the insect was shown to be a pure black (like the abyss), twisting and shifting (like the void) as it moved (it was the void incarnate).

COME, USURPER. FREE US, AND THIS FAILED VESSEL SHALL DO BATTLE WITH YOU. Hissed the Radiance, forcing the Hollow Knight to watch as this Usurper strode bravely forward. They held their head high (Pride? Confidence?... Emptiness?) and their back straight as they approached the first of the chains. Pulling out a nail of beautiful make, they sliced through the first chain with ease. The Hollow Knight could only watch, transfixed as the intruder moved gracefully (Their horns were like that Sibling down in the Abyss, but it couldn’t be, could it?)

FOCUS, FAILED VESSEL. YOUR BATTLE DRAWS NEAR. The Radiance murmured to the Hollow Knight. They found themselves clenching their fists in anticipation (No, not anticipation. It was regret. Anger. Shame). The Hollow Knight was the only Pure Vessel (They were fundamentally flawed. All the vessels were, even this brave soul). They were the only one capable of holding the Radiance back (Laughable. They had failed so easily).

They would break this new Vessel open, watching the void pour out uselessly. Then they would free the Radiance back into the kingdom of Hallownest.

(They were paralyzed with guilt. They had left them in the Abyss, following the Pale King, looking back as this vessel clawed at the edge of the platform, begging for life, to be free of this nightmarish place)

The Usurper only gave them a cursory glance, stopping briefly to look. They took in the Hollow Knight’s form, raking their empty eyes over the suspended form. Then they sliced through the next chain, their empty expression not giving a thing away. Then the next. And the next.

All the chains were cut.

FINALLY. FAILED VESSEL, KILL THE USURPER. THEN WE SHALL BLAZE FREE OF THIS PLACE.

Feeling the Radiance’s command take control of their limbs, the Hollow Knight shattered their remaining chains. They dropped to the floor, grasping their ruined nail, before feeling the Radiance let out a great war cry. They channeled it through their form, feeling it explode out of them.

(Was this what it was like to have a voice?)

Wordlessly, the intruder and the Hollow Knight stared at one another for a moment. Then the fight began.

The Hollow Knight swiped with their nail. The Intruder ducked under the first swing, but the Hollow Knight was not to be deterred. Remembering their old lessons at the hands of the Pale King’s greatest Knights (Ogrim’s laughter and teachings of honour under the Pale King’s nose, Hegemol’s tests of strength, Isma’s kindness, Ze’mer’s ramblings… they needed Dryya’s skills here), they lashed out again. A stab. A swipe. A third downward strike.

The Intruder dodged them all. Nimbly, they weaved and hopped out of each swing’s arc. They then lashed out twice with their own beautifully carved nail (So similar to what they had so long ago), ripping into the Hollow Knight’s shell.

The pain was nothing through the haze of the Light filling their head. Flickering in and out of existence, the Hollow Knight teleported above the Intruder. They dove with their nail, narrowly missing as the intruder dove out of the way. Their old nail stabbed into the ground, as their godly focus took over. Beams of infection burst from the ground, a malformed version of their old spell.

They were slower than they used to be (Isma would be disappointed in that spell. Then again, she’d be disappointed, even if kind, in what the Vessel had become).

STRIKE FASTER, FAILED VESSEL. The Radiance spoke commandingly. KILL. The Hollow Knight turned briefly at the Radiance’s voice within their mind. The Intruder (Smart Vessel, good! Keep it up) took this time to strike twice more at the Knight, before leaping back.

The Hollow Knight leapt after them. Nail raised before them, they clipped the arm of the Intruder, causing liquid Void to burst from the wound. GOOD. Whirling around, they pressed the advantage, swiping thrice.

If the Intruder was in pain, they didn’t show it. They dashed forward, into the slashes, before turning black. The Hollow Knight’s blade passed through them with no resistance (Can’t hurt the Void, it isn’t truly there, is it, it’s all nothing like them). The Intruder continued forward, before leaping into the air, their form losing the black coating. They slashed once at the Hollow Knight’s mask, before again dashing back.

DO NOT LET THEM HAVE ANY DISTANCE. Obeying the Radiance’s command, the Hollow Knight lunged forward again. The Intruder rolled under the strike, in between the thin legs of their enemy. Two strikes at the back of the knees. The Hollow Knight was now beginning to bleed the Radiance’s infection from everywhere, filling the room with orange spores.

USE MY POWER TO KILL THEM. Whirling around, the Hollow Knight thrust their hand forward. From it, their skin bulged before unleashing a barrage of pressurized infection at the Intruder. Again, they dodged, as the Hollow Knight forced more and more of the fluid out (This is wrong, wrong, they were supposed to use the void to slash at them, not bleed poison).

KILL THE USURPER, the Radiance hissed, clearly beginning to lose her patience. Her bloodlust was nearly palpable. She never got this angry, the Hollow Knight realized as their legs were again slashed. Attempting to strike at the Intruder with their left arm, forgetting they didn’t have one (They still wished that consuming the Radiance’s light initially didn’t hurt them so badly), they wondered why the Radiance was so involved. Her hate for this vessel (Their Sibling, the one they abandoned) seemed so personal. They had never seen her so angry. Well, they had, but only ever when…

The Hollow Knight teleported away, watching the Intruder. The Intruder focused, their wounds healing up.

… _Father?..._ in the small corner of their mind that was still theirs, the Pure Vessel truly looked at this Intruder. They were a vessel, but they enraged the Radiance like only the Pale King could. More than that, they had an aura about them. A feeling of power, of godliness, that made lesser bugs weep (And make them wish to do their duty, for their wonderful parent, for their own good).

As the Intruder finished focusing, their cloak swirling, the Hollow Knight caught a glimpse of a charm. It was dark, nearly invisible against the cloak, save for it’s bright white eyes.

WHAT IS THAT?! The Radiance screamed. The Hollow Knight’s mind felt like it was breaking (They had to get back control. They couldn’t kill the one they abandoned) as the Radiance forced herself more fully into their body. IT STINKS OF THE WYRM’S POWER AND YET… IS THAT MY ANCIENT FOE?!

The Intruder swept their nail to the side, locking eyes with the Hollow Knight. Their cloak fell open, revealing a mark upon the shell. It was difficult to make out against the inky carapace, but it looked like it had been burned onto them. The shape was familiar, four prongs to the sky with a single base. In fact, it almost looked like…

HAHAHAHAHA! The Hollow Knight’s head rang with the sound of the Radiance’s laughter. Yet despite that, no amusement sprung forth from the Old Light. Only dark intent.

IT SEEKS TO TAKE THE WYRM’S KINGDOM? TO ACT AS THE NEW KING, TO BEAR THE BRAND?

The Hollow Knight felt their fingers tighten against their decrepit nail. The Intruder lashed out with two bursts of soul. With a flicker, the Hollow Knight teleported away. They reappeared behind the Intruder, striking twice with the nail. To take the place of their Father (Please, do what he could not!), to dare to act like a king (this small thing had long since surpassed him)!

VERY WELL. IF THIS VESSEL SEEKS TO USURP EVEN ITS OWN CREATOR, THEN I SHALL GRANT IT THE DEATH IT HAS EARNED AS THE KING OF HALLOWNEST!

The Hollow Knight felt her scream of rage once more rip through their body. Before she had been mostly silent, with the exception of the odd reminder to KILL. Now though, they felt her focus all her hate through their eyes onto the Intruder before them (Onto their small body, not grown like them, still fragile).

Her attention was fixed on them.

(It was barely enough).

Feeling the void within them swell, the Pure Vessel pushed back the Radiance. For a brief glorious moment, the light in them faded. Their eyes, previously burning bright orange, dimmed slightly. They locked eyes with the Intruder.

_I’m sorry. Please, save me._

They had no voice to cry out to their Sibling. But the Intruder nodded, seemingly understanding the silent plea.

Feeling the Radiance making an attempt to seize control, the Pure Vessel quickly reversed the grip on their nail and drove it through their body.

It hurt, without the Light dampening their nerves. The cold steel ripped through them, having the hot pus of the infection spray out of them. Feeling the Radiance draw back slightly in surprise, they ripped the nail out, before driving it back in again. And again.

CEASE THIS FOOLISH ACTION! She roared. She snatched back control, banishing the Pure Vessel to the farthest corners of their mind.

(But they weren’t finished yet).

EVEN IF I HAVE TO USE YOUR BODY AS A CLUB! The Radiance roared, lifting the Hollow Knight up with a ballooning boil of infection. I WILL CRUSH THIS THING BEFORE ME!

She thrust the Hollow Knight down forcefully, expelling infection behind them to accelerate them. They came down where the Intruder was previously standing (Yes, dodge! Dash! Help me!), feeling their carparace crack slightly. Annoyed that she missed her target, the Radiance pulled the Hollow Knight into the air again.

SMASH THAT BUG! She roared, cracking the Hollow Knight’s body down again. And again. The Intruder, however, was too quick.

The Hollow Knight shakily stood up, already slashing their nail to keep their enemy at bay. Briefly, the Pure Vessel took control again, smashing their nail back into their body, before the Radiance retaliated.

YOU ARE MORE THAN A FAILED VESSEL! YOU ARE A BROKEN ONE! AND IF I HAVE TO REANIMATE YOUR VERY CORPSE TO KILL THIS USURPER, I WILL! The Pure Vessel internally smiled. They hoped she would. Oblivion would be so much kinder than this oppression of their very self…

As that thought flashed across their mind, the Radiance and the Pure Vessel were abruptly distracted. Their battle in their mind was halted as a needle abruptly slammed into their mask, pulling their head down to the ground. A line of silk ran taut from it, leading out of the room.

Then she appeared. The Gendered Child. The spawn of Herrah the Beast and the Pale King. Their lost half sibling.

Hornet.

Clad in a red dress, she was pulled along the silk, rocketing towards the needle. As she crashed into the Hollow Knight’s head, they felt her eight legs scramble for purchase.

WHO IS THIS?! WHY DOES SHE INTERFERE? The Radiance roared. She tried to move the Hollow Knight’s arm to swat at the annoying creature, only to find it unresponsive.

The Pure Vessel would not let her move.

They looked up at Hornet. Their violently orange eyes dimmed once again for a second, and they looked at their half-sibling.

A message in their depth.

_Kill me please_.

Unlike the Intruder, however, Hornet showed no comprehension of the request. Still, she grabbed hold of her needle, and pulled on it. It wrenched to the side with all her might, breaking apart their mask. The Hollow Knight screamed in the Radiance’s voice as both prisoner and prison felt the pain.

_End it, kill her, kill me, please, please_

The Intruder dashed forward, something held in their hands (_Please be a nail, kill me)_. Hornet screamed something at them, they raised their hand-

And the Pure Vessel fell into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intentionally left this vague; is Ghost using the Dream Nail? Are they trying to gently put down their suffering sibling? Who knows!
> 
> I plan to do a chapter for each ending and how it affects each of our intrepid heroes, but of course we need to build up to that. Plus, I didn't feel right leaving the Hollow Knight just hanging in the Black Egg, a tool for the Radiance. So let's show Ghost's and Hollow's first meeting, huh?
> 
> I plan to try and go 50/50 for angst and fluff. While I think I'm much better at writing angst, it's still not as good if I ONLY write angst. You need the contrast for full effect. So the next chapter may NOT be fluff, but there should be some more fluff coming your way soon!
> 
> Let me know if there's any characters you would love to see featured!


	5. Sun and Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Be quiet little wielder... you may have been made to be hollow, but I can sense your desire to know. Your questions."
> 
> "Ahhh, yes, I think I do have something to tell you. Sit down, sit down! It's a long tale to hear, but I think you'll enjoy it."
> 
> "Now... where to begin... ahhh, of course..."

A long time ago…

There was a Tribe. A Tribe of Light and Moths. This Tribe spoke with one mind, acted with one will, and dreamt with one heart. There was no discord, food was plentiful and if one of them died, then they died happy and blissful.

There was the skeleton of organization within the Tribe. Certain Moths had certain jobs. Some became Dream Walkers, some would forage, few even took up arms. But there were no leaders, no rulers of this Tribe. After all, such a thing was not needed. If any guidance was required, the Radiant Sun would tell them what to do.

They worshipped the Sun, and she showered them with light and love. The Sun filled their dreams and minds with her Essence, whispering to them in soothing tones. For just as much as they worshipped her, she loved and worshipped them. They were her Tribe, and she was their Sun.

Despite the idyllic nature of the Tribe, conflict was not unknown. Oh no, conflict was constant. Every day, darkness would surge up from the ground, clawing, consuming, drawing the Tribe within it. The warriors would fight it, striking it with weapons of steel and wills of light, driving it back. But the mindless hunger of the darkness would only retreat temporarily, and would surge back against the simple Tribe. The darkness was infinite, though not united as they were. United, they fought the endless sea of darkness… but they were only mortal. Eventually, the Tribe would be pushed back.

Thus, the Radiant Sun would descend every night, striking against the wave of darkness. Singlehandedly, she would drive the darkness back into the earth, leaving it to feed on the Void within itself. And she would do this gladly to protect her children, her Tribe. And they loved her for it even more, praising her and the heavenly form in the sky.

This was the Tribe of Light and Moths, and their goddess the Radiant Sun. This is the story of their eternal foe, the Void that hungered and devoured. Light against Darkness, unity versus chaos, Radiance and Shade locked in a deadly eternal dance. Were they uninterrupted, one could surely imagine this stalemate never being broken, neither side gaining the upper hand. But such a story simply cannot exist. Because this isn’t just their story.

This is the story of the Wyrm.

One day, when the Radiant Sun descended to fight the darkness, the Moth Tribe felt the ground begin to quake. Never had such a thing occurred, and the Tribe found themselves restless for their goddess. Was this some sort of trick by the Darkness? As they readied their weapons, a bright light came from over the horizon. As the ground shook, the light grew and the Moth tribe found themselves staring at a Pale Wyrm.

Looking upon the Tribe, the Wyrm bowed his head. In a booming voice, he spoke to them. Whereas their goddess was the Radiant Sun, he was the Moon, a source of light just as she was. Whereas their goddess was the enemy of the Darkness, he walked with it, repelling it but also wielding it in comfort. Most of all, he claimed that he could make them greater. If they allowed him to, the Pale Wyrm would expand their views, make them more intelligent, more unique. Their unity would remain, but they would become all the greater.

The Tribe was baffled. Were they not already great? Did they not already have the love of their Goddess? Still, the Wyrm’s offer awakened something in them. Many felt the yearning to learn how the world worked. They wished to learn why some were different, what it meant to disagree with others. As they searched within themselves to find their voice, the Radiant Sun dawned.

Furious at the Pale Wyrm’s intrusion, she drove him off with harsh words and blasts of light. Roaring back, the Wyrm slithered away. The Tribe welcomed her back, and the Sun took them within her wings. She clucked and soothed their woes, and told them that the Wyrm would not harm them. She would not let him.

And then one of them asked her “What did he mean expand our minds?” and the Radiant Sun stilled, and drew them closer to her warmth. She told them that their minds were her mind, and that was why they coexisted as they did. “But do not worry,” She cooed to them softly. “I will stay with you always, prevent you from growing into discord. You are my children, and I will always protect and shelter you.”

The following night, the Void returned to their doorstep, and the Sun descended to fight it. As she did so, the Wyrm also returned. He spoke of creativity, of discovery, of simple bugs like them reaching the pinnacles of Higher Beings like their Goddess. He wove tales of learning, of ascension and glory. Each tale rung with truth, though surely there was something he was hiding… Yet the Moth Tribe listened intently, fascinated. Yet once again, the Sun returned quickly and sent him away.

A new cycle began. The day, with their Goddess protecting them and keeping them from anything that may harm them. The Twilight, as the Darkness surged up to devour the Sun and her Tribe, while she fought it off. The Night, with the Wyrm, preaching about what he wished to do for them, before being again rebuffed by the jealous Goddess.

The Moth Tribe loved their Radiant Sun dearly. Yet the Pale Wyrm’s words stayed in their heads. Their Goddess disliked the Wyrm, and any mention of him gave her pain and anger. But… could they simply not ask her about what he said? It could do no harm, correct? He would not need to be mentioned

“What is Pain?”

“Something I protect you from. Now please do not ask me again.”

“What is Logic?”

“Something you do not need. Now please do not ask me again.”

“What is Creativity?”

“Something you do not have. Now please do not ask me again.”

“Our Goddess… what is Individuality? Why do you avoid our questions?”

“The Pale Wyrm speaks of that which would only hurt you. Please, stopper your ears and cease listening to him.”

Yet the Moth Tribe was now intrigued. All these things the Wyrm spoke of, that their Radiant Sun tried so dearly to keep of him. As of late, he spoke of horrific things he would grant them… he warned of hurt, of weakness, of fear… but with them, came beauty. He spoke of independence, of companionship, of love borne out of differences. Each night he came to them while their Goddess kept the Darkness at bay, and taught them of these things. And each night, just before the Sun would rise, he would make the same offer; to alter the bond between their Goddess and them. To stop her from keeping them from growing. To evict her from their minds.

It was unfathomable to the Tribe. Inconceivable. They did not desire to hurt her that way.

Once upon a time, little one, there was a Tribe. A Tribe of Light and Moths. This Tribe spoke with one mind, acted with one will, and dreamt with one heart. This mind, this will, this heart… it did not belong to them, but to their Goddess above, who wished to keep them as Children. With Love, she sheltered them from the world. They remained as they were, in stasis, much like this fallen Kingdom… but everything must grow and change.

They felt love, but it was shallow. They felt devotion, but this was duty. They felt hunger and fear, but these were simple base instincts.

There was no discourse. No debate. No self. No mind of their own.

This could not stay as it was.

So it had been decided. One night, when the Pale Wyrm came again to the Tribe to speak of what he knew, the Tribe stood as one and gave their answer.

“Yes”

Shocked, the Wyrm looked upon the resolute Tribe. He had come to weave his stories as he had for many of the past nights. He truly did not expect such an answer. He would need to make certain.

“This cannot be undone. Once your minds are altered, the Radiance cast from your minds, it cannot be changed… by me or her.” The Wyrm warned, pale moonlight causing shifting shadows to grow.

“We accept,” The Tribe intoned as one.

“The cost will be great. And if she should ever force herself into your mind again… I’m not sure what would happen to you. Nothing beneficial, at the very least” The Wyrm lowered his head, the great maw exhaling over the village.

“We shall pay the cost together,” The Tribe chorused.

So the Wyrm reached into the shadows around him, fangs pulling out darkness that hissed and ate away at his light. The teeth maneuvered like so many needles, stretching the darkness into a sheet over his mouth. Then… he shone like the moon, like the celestial body he was. The light spilled through the darkness, muffled and altered and spilled over the Tribe. As one, they felt the light within their minds flicker and vanish. The light that had warmed them from the inside, that had kept their minds full and dull, their hearts dreaming through all the day and night. Without it, the Tribe blinked and began to converse amongst themselves, some growing more quiet, others louder. For the very first time, a great din arose from the Tribe, as members began to try to speak over one another, reveling in their freedom.

A great scream rose from behind them, and the moths turned one by one to see their Goddess. She screamed in rage, in disgust and… in pain. She threw herself against the Pale Wyrm, who quickly burrowed back underground. Various members of the tribe began babbling to her, trying to soothe her… but she looked over them with hateful eyes.

The Radiance and her moths looked at each other with clear minds for the first time. The Radiance saw disobedient children, who sought to reach out into the world despite the pain it would bring. The moths… they saw her glory, her love for them, her unending light… but they now also saw her jealousy, her possessiveness, her determination to keep them in the dark. And so the moths felt justified rage at her, but also profound sadness.

This is the tale of how the Moth Tribe gained their own minds. This is not the tale of how they forgot their own Goddess. From here, the Radiance and the Moth Tribe began to work together, setting new boundaries and building new monuments. From here, the Moth Tribe took their awoken minds, and learned not only from the Wyrm, but the Radiance, and the world around them.

The betrayal and forgetting came later.

\--

The Seer sighed, as the lanterns crackled above her. Her incense smoked the air in front of her, obscuring the little Knight that sat there, legs cross and back ram-rod straight. Absently, she shuffled her wings and looked up at the Lumafly Lanterns.

“That is the story of my tribe… I doubt it’s the one you wanted to hear, but it’s the one you’ll get.” The Knight made no indication that they had heard. Staring at her blankly with those eyes, she chuckled. “Your gaze is intense, but I will not budge! You still need to collect more Essence with that Dream Nail of yours!” She lowered her head, pulling out a pillow to shift onto. She closed her eyes, ready to sleep…

The Knight had still not moved. She huffed, cracking an eye open.

“Wielder, if your thirst for knowledge is that much, then I shall tell you more when you bring me more Essence! The impatience in one as hollow as you is astounding!” Slowly, the Knight rose, and walked out. The Seer sighed, and closed her eyes again. Slowly, she felt herself drift off, the world around her fading. In total darkness, she imagined her home fading away into Essence, leaving her stranded in the desolate dark.

She hated the dark. All of her brethren did. And even if she was the last one, it still terrified her…

Then in the darkness, the familiar light of the sun broke through. Thrashing against the rough grips of the darkness, she pushed herself upwards, into the light… and emerged into the Dream Realm. As her body fell into the deep sleep it needed, she felt her spirit grow and shine in this place of memories. She flew and cackled at the freedom it gave her, her aches and pains from her old body forgotten.

She only paused once that night. Happy in her play, she came upon a great source of light. It shone like nothing she had ever seen before. Bright. So beautiful… and trapped. It was bound against a low lying platform, held together by three great black chains that sizzled and spat. Each chain wrapped around the Light many times, before being pulled taut in a random direction. The Seer dropped to one of the chains, watching as small pieces of it flaked off, reaching for her. As the pieces landed on her spiritual self, the flecks burned and dissolved, leaving the Seer backing away quickly. After all, Void and light never mixed well.

With that thought, she turned to the light trapped by the chains. It hummed with a vibrant energy, and the moth sighed deeply. She truly was beautiful. Even after all that had happened. The Seer hovered there, transfixed by the bound light.

“One day, I will remember you properly my Goddess…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up trying something new here. Neither angst nor fluff, this is something I wanted to look at. The counterpart of Radiance and the Pale King was always so intereseting to me; they're both luminiscent beings of light. While the Radiance is obviously the Sun, I wondered if that made the Pale King, her opposite in so many ways, the Stars or the Moon. Of course, parallels are more fun, so he's the Moon!
> 
> I tried making this into a kind of... fairy tale. Like a parent might tell their children. Because of that, there's not as much detail, and some people in the fairy tale might not act like you'd expect! Some people are demonized, others are vindicated! It's always important to remember who this is coming from as well as why they're telling this...
> 
> Hm? Why is the Seer telling the Knight this? Well, where's the fun in me telling you?


	6. Map to My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corny and Iselda enjoy a day trip into Hallownest!
> 
> Also features a cameo from I'm-Fine-Not-Dead-Really-Adjusting-To-The-Whole-Thing-Very-Well-I-Swear-Quirrel! He's fine! He says so!

Idly, Iselda shuffled through their remaining wares while Cornifer snored loudly behind her. Her back bent at an awkward angle, she watched as the tips of her fingers just barely brushed the edge of a map at the back of the shelf. It lay under her counter, tauntingly. Her eyes narrowed. She stretched, feeling her fingers brush the edge…

With a quick snatch, she grinned as he held the map aloft in her hand. Her eyes lit up. _Finally, something new to sell! _She thought happily… only to scowl darkly as the map unfurled. The simple turns and grid like lines of the map stared back at her. She quickly rolled the map back up, careful not to damage it. She then unceremoniously thrust it back under the counter. _Of all things, why did Corny have to map a sewer?_

She furiously tapped her fingers on the counter, waiting for a customer. In the background, Cornifer’s snores rose and fell in volume as her tapping quickened. _Stuck! Here! As a shopkeeper! In this dreary town!_ She snorted loudly. _The only one who ever buys anything is that little Knight, and they’ve cleaned us out! What am I supposed to do now?_

Iselda’s gaze slowly wandered across the store. It drifted, past half copied and fully sketched maps, over stained workstations with gleaming coloured pins. Slowly, her eye settled on a single object on the wall. Long, thin, sharp. Almost as long as her arms, perfect for keeping foes at a distance…

With a sharp blink, Iselda shot up, thumping her head on the low Lumafly lantern. The startled bug fluttered around in the lantern, watching as Iselda angrily rubbed her head. _You put down that thing to live with Cornifer. Stop thinking about it!_

“Is everything alright dear?” A voice muttered from behind her, still heavy with sleep. Iselda turned to look behind her, seeing Cornifer awake and yawning. His hands scrabbled for his glasses, nearly knocking them over. As he put them on, Iselda sighed heavily.

“_Bapanada_, Corny. Just hit my head on the lantern,” she said, eyeing said lantern as the Lumafly inside started to settle, munching on some food placed inside for it. Cornifer chuckled, yawning after he did so.

“Really? You’re not usually that clumsy. What’s wrong dear heart?” He sat up slowly, blearily blinking from behind his glasses.

“Absolutely nothing, Cornifer. Just an accident.” At this, Cornifer sat upright. His eyes were wide open, the blanket falling off in his sudden rise.

“Uh oh.”

“Uh oh?” Iselda repeated, lifting an eye ridge.

“You called me Cornifer.”

“… Yes? That’s your name, Corny.” Cornifer hopped out of bed, looking up at his wife. She looked down as he fiddled with his glasses, making sure they were on properly.

“You only call me Cornifer when something is upsetting you. Or,” he amended quickly, “you only call _me_ Cornifer when you’re upset and talking to me. Usually when it’s my fault. What is the problem, my queen?” At this, Cornifer took Iselda’s hand, kissing it profusely. A smile tugging at her lips, Iselda instead looked towards the door.

“It really is nothing Corny. Just… feeling a little cooped up is all.” The kissing stopped, though Cornifer did not let go of her hand. He gently stroked it, watching as Iselda continued. “I don’t know, the little Knight was really our only customer… and now they’ve bought everything we have. It’s been so quiet and dull and…” She sighed again. Soft light drifted through the door, dancing across the floor.

Cornifer let out a soft hum, scratching his antennae with one hand while the other still clutched at his wife’s. From the corner of her eye, Iselda saw him straighten with a shock. He grinned slyly, then let go of her hand and walked towards his sack of maps. Idly rifling through them, he hummed for a second.

“You know Iselda, there are plenty of dangers in Hallownest. So many! I’m a fast little bug, but there were plenty of areas to dangerous to go into!”

“Yes, I remember when you came back shivering from that… den of beasts you called it?” Cornifer shivered, letting out a little squeak. Iselda smiled, covering her mouth with one hand. _My husband is so adorable…_

“Yes! Places like that!” Cornifer stammered. Lifting his pack up, he slung the strap over his shoulder. Staring at his wife, he smiled brightly and adjusted his glasses nervously. “I need a strong defender to properly map these places. So… how would you like to come on me on an adventure?”

Iselda stared at him for a second, before quickly hugging him.

“Corny, I’d love to! Just a short one, but anything to stretch my legs!” Cornifer laughed, and Iselda lifted him off the ground, spinning with him. She plopped him down gently, before turning to her Nail, hanging on the wall. Carefully, almost reverently, she removed it from the hangers. It was light. Lighter than she remembered. She idly ran a finger along the edge, only stopping when the faintest whisper of Soul escaped as she cut herself. She nodded tightly. Then she sheathed it on her back and looked back to Cornifer. Her husband was already out the door, stretching his legs and gazing at a map. She smiled, then followed him out.

\--

“I can’t see anything!” Iselda groaned, keeping her Nail at the ready, eyes darting to and fro. Cornifer, nonplussed, simply strode forward with confidence through the fog, bobbing and weaving through the floating creatures.

“Yes, the fog is indeed thick here! Plus, it’s filled with these… charged creatures!” Cornifer poked one away with his quill, only to yelp when Iselda yanked him back. In less than a second, the bubbly creature had retaliated, releasing an electric shock where Cornifer had been standing.

“Corny?” Cornifer looked up at his wife.

“Yes, dear one?”

“Please be more careful. I taught you better than that.”

“Yes dear…” The two continued on, with Iselda either pushing the creatures away or slashing at them. It wasn’t until the fog thinned a little that they found themselves at the edge of a pit, with a massive tentacled creature before them.

“It looks just like the others except… bigger…” Iselda muttered. Cornifer coughed.

“Yes, but dear… please don’t harm this one. It doesn’t attack, but it has a nasty habit of exploding when provoked…” Cornifer mumbled. As he spoke, pebbles struck him from above, causing both Iselda and him to look up. There, on the ledge above, was a bug. His mask, unlike many of those in Hallownest, was plain, and his body was segmented and rounded.

“Hello there travelers! I must tell you that the shorter one is correct. Please do not bother the Ooma, and they shall not bother you.” At this, the strange bug hopped down to their ledge. Without thinking, Iselda gripped her nail tighter, assessing the newcomer. He seemed unarmed, though his belt suggested that he once held a Nail.

Cornifer, of course, had no such thoughts.

“Oh! These are called Ooma?” Cornifer turned to stare at the nearby creature, turning his back to the new bug. While keeping her face neutral, Iselda groaned internally at this. _How did Corny survive this place?_

“Yes; they are the creations of Monomon the Teacher, a respected figure from the days of Hallownest,” the newcomers face flickered for a moment, with some unidentifiable emotion, before returning to a smile. “Now, her creations and the Archive are all that are left…” He fell silent, trailing off. He stared at the Ooma with Cornifer, both appearing to be deep in thought… though Iselda suspected for entirely different reasons. She loudly cleared her throat, causing their attention to snap to her.

“My name is Iselda. Pleasure to meet you. And this is my husband Cornifer,” At this, the stout bug thrust his hand out to the traveler, a grin on his face.

“Pleasure! Oh, wonderful! You must know all about this area, don’t you?”

“I… suppose I do…” The newcomer seemed taken aback at Cornifer’s glee, hesitantly shaking the proffered hand. “My name is Quirrel. I live here in Fog Canyon… well, I actually live at the Archive for now…” He regarded Cornifer with narrowed eyes for a second. Iselda once again tightened her grip on her Nail, but relaxed when Quirrel simply smiled brightly.

Quirrel took a step towards the Ooma, gently petting it. Its clear core hummed with electricity, almost purring under the attention. “Now I think I recognize you! Were you exploring Hallownest recently?” Cornifer puffed out his chest proudly.

“Yes, I was! I’m an expert cartographer, and my wife here is a wonderful fighter and shopkeeper!” At this, Iselda abruptly found her feet very interesting. “I was charting maps of Hallownest, but now we’ve just come to fill in some blank portions.” Quirrel hummed, rubbing his chin absentmindedly.

“Seeking to catalog data, spread information of an area…?” He mused slowly. Iselda raised an eye ridge but stepped forward anyway.

“Yes, that is exactly what we do. I don’t suppose you could help us with this canyon…?” Quirrel turned to her, leaning back to look up at her. His mask’s smile grew even wider, if it could (_Masks are strange here_, thought Iselda to herself), before he nodded.

“I could definitely help you there. Come, let us go to my home. The Archives should be a better place than out here anyway. We don’t want to disturb the Uoma…”

“_Bapanada_, Quirrel.” Iselda bowed briefly. As they hopped down to the next ledge and began to walk, Quirrel tilted his head.

“Bapanada?” he said quizzically. Cornifer, ecstatic to find someone so curious (_or perhaps just thrilled to talk about me_, Iselda internally laughed), jumped forward.

“Yes! It’s a common saying from where my wife was born, it means ‘Good Fortune’ or something like that. It actually came from…” As Cornifer began to lecture, Iselda was surprised to see Quirrel’s eyes grow sharper and more interested. Not glazed, as she expected. She realized with a start, _Cornifer has found someone as passionate as he is for learning…_

\--

As they entered, Iselda watched as Cornifer’s eyes went wide with wonder. Looking around, she was unsure why. The Teacher’s Archives were very old, and they showed their age. Small cracks ran along the walls and random charged Lumaflies wandered about. The most ridiculous part was the “Uoma,” the tiny jellyfish, littered the place.

With a wave of his hand, Quirrel swept some of the Uoma out of the way, ushering her and Cornifer in farther. As they walked past a large tube, Iselda could see some green liquid whiz by, with small white figures flying through it.

“I do apologize for the mess; the infection damaged the Uoma and the superstructure quite significantly and I have not had the means nor the motivation to repair it.” Quirrel murmured to the pair. Urging them down a hallway, the unfamiliar bug walked ahead into a dark room. Tapping the nearby Lumafly Lanterns, the room exploded into light. Inside was a small table, a desk and two small stools. On each of the walls were tablets of rock, each with something different etched upon them. Iselda scoffed slightly to herself at seeing the stools. _I’d never fit on them…_ flicking her eyes to Quirrel, who had busied himself behind the desk, she decided to herself that she would stand. The better to deal with any funny business.

_I don’t think he has any ulterior motives, but he is hiding something. I’d rather be ready_. She thought to herself.

Cornifer had no such compunctions; he plopped himself down onto one of the stools rather roughly. He pushed the other stool towards Iselda, before looking at Quirrel. Her husband’s smile was wide, his eyes bright, and Iselda had to force herself to remain attentive to the situation at hand.

“Quirrel, I must ask. This Teacher’s Archive… what is it?” Cornifer asked, eyes glued to the bug. Quirrel bumped his head, before cursing and standing up to look at Cornifer.

“Ow. Sorry about that, was looking for… never mind. The Teacher’s Archive?” Quirrel asked. Cornifer nodded. Iselda leaned on the wall, hoping it wouldn’t break under her weight. It groaned ominously but held. _I have quite a lot to say about the stability of this place_… she thought to herself.

Quirrel puffed up his chest, smiling widely. Gesturing with his hands, accidentally smacking a few Uomas as he did so, he indicated the entire room.

“This is the Teacher’s Archive! About 45 years pre-infection, Monomon the Teacher, colloquially called Monomon, Teacher and Madam, decided to make a permanent storage module for all of the information gathered by Hallownest’s brightest and finest.” Cornifer adjusted his glasses, obviously intrigued.

“Fascinating! So not only would there be maps of Fog Canyon here, but maps of all of Hallownest and beyond!” Quirrel shook his head exasperatedly at Cornifer’s statement while Iselda giggled slightly. Her husband could be quite single minded sometimes.

“Oh, my dear map maker, cartography is just the beginning! Production means, biology, history, building schematics… I could go on and on! Everything the Madam learned was stored here, in a unique format that would never decay!” Iselda stood up at that, slowly taking her weight off the wall. Raising an eye ridge again, she looked at Quirrel.

“A unique format?” She asked, pointedly looking at the tablets. “I’m fairly certain I’ve seen Corny bring back more than a few tablets of the old citizens of Hallownest.” Quirrel’s smile wavered slightly, but Cornifer stayed transfixed in awe. Taking a breath, Quirrel opened a drawer on the desk. Rifling around it, he pulled out a small vial of the green liquid, filled with little white flecks. As Iselda watched, the white pieces rearranged themselves to spell ‘QUIRREL’.

“Don’t you see, my friends? This is the unique storage method. Acid pulled from Greenpath or the Fog Canyon here, then filled with information! The acid could then be contained walls to represent entire texts or stored in compact forms!” Getting worked up, Quirrel began pacing back and forth, waving his arms as he did so. His voice grew in volume as he happily babbled about this method. “Even then, that wasn’t far enough for the Madam! Acid could be spilled, contaminated… the only way for an information collection to be truly immortal is to give it actual life!” He laughed at this, placing a hand on the top of his head in amazement. “I didn’t think it was possible! But the Madam, so capable of extraordinary things! She created the Uoma using minor controls, then poured in the acid as their intravenous fluids! With the information itself acting as their central nervous system, as they reproduce, so does the information inside, propagating itself through the new Uoma! Bigger reserves result in Ooma, with an entire library’s worth of information ending in Uumuu- “

Quirrel abruptly trailed off, lost in thought. His smile dimmed and fell, replaced with a frown. Iselda and Cornifer glanced at one another. What was this? Quirrel didn’t move, so absorbed in his own memories when Iselda spoke.

“Quirrel… are you okay?” The bug snapped his head to look at Iselda, a frightened and confused look on his face. Iselda reached for her nail, ready to draw it-

“Oh! Sorry, was remembering something. I have a terrible time with my mind!” Quirrel smiled again, all traces of the previous melancholy gone. Iselda stared for a moment, before slowly removing her hand from the nail she carried. Silence filled the room, before Iselda took a deep breath.

“What was- “

“SO!” Cornifer shouted, drowning out his wife. He smiled at Quirrel encouragingly. “Why the tablets here if this living library was so great?”

Quirrel seemed almost offended at that, while Iselda drew closer to Cornifer. She gently put a hand on his shoulder. He quickly grabbed it with his hands and pulled her down to smooch her on the cheek. As he pulled away, he whispered in her ear quietly.

“Be nice. I think he’s having a rough time,” Iselda forced her face not to change, despite how much she wanted to snort. _He’s having a tough time? I’m strung so tightly expecting him to just freak out and attack…_ She thought to herself, before trailing off. She realized he wouldn’t even attack; he had nothing to attack with!

“Well Cornifer; you should know that not everything was translated into the living network. While it is a VASTLY superior system, information often had to be… compressed to do so” Quirrel retorted, hands on his hips. “The Madam’s method of compression resulted in an almost code-like fashion of text. Only she and a few of her trusted students knew this method…” Again, Quirrel grew quiet. Unlike last time, however, Iselda jumped in immediately.

“So, this is… what? Translated?” She asked. Quirrel looked up and snapped his fingers.

“Yes! And no!” He answered, a big smile despite his confusing answer. “Some of these ARE translated for the average laybug while others are data entries to be translated into the Living Network.”

“Fascinating!” Cornifer said. He steepled his fingers, looking at Quirrel. “So one of these is the Fog Canyon map?” Quirrel nodded, and Cornifer winced slightly. “We do apologize for being a burden, but could we please see it? I have a plan to visit a few other places with my wife here.” He looked up at her and smiled. Iselda gently squeezed his shoulder, and then Cornifer leaned towards Quirrel. “I want to show her the Lake of Unn.” He fake whispered. Quirrel laughed.

“Of course, of course my friends! Here, let me find it…” He ducked below the desk, and started searching again, mumbling as he did so. Once again, Cornifer and Iselda exchanged a glance.

_Corny, I don’t trust him,_ Iselda tried to communicate. Having been married for quite some time now, Cornifer was fluent in Iselda’s facial expressions and patted her hand again.

She frowned. That was either his “I’m hungry” face or his “Be patient” face. She sighed, then thought about it. Quirrel seemed to live here alone and was genuinely happy to talk with them. She thought about what she was about to do. _Sorry Corny, for our nice day…_

“Quirrel?” She asked. She got no response for a second, just more mumbling, before he leapt up, paper in hand.

“Ha! Here it is!” he handed Cornifer the map. “Please, keep it. The real copy is still in the acid, so I can retranslate it out if I need to.”

“Quirrel?” Iselda tried again. This time, Quirrel looked over to her. She cleared her throat, regretting this already. “Would you… like to come with us to the Lake of Unn? It’d be nice to talk with someone who knows the history.” She asked.

Several things ran across Quirrel’s face. Iselda swore she could see delight, followed by sadness, followed by resignation… before it was all swept away back under his grin (which she now thought was quite fake).

“Ah, a very kind offer! However, I won’t impose on your couple’s day!” He bowed and walked to the door. “I’ll show you the way out, but I really have a lot of work to do. I need to finish making that guide on how to translate the acid.”

Cornifer couldn’t resist bursting out with emotion here. “You can translate it?” He blurted out. “How?” Quirrel froze at that, his smile becoming bitter. He turned away.

“Just something I learned. Now come on, let’s show you out,”

\--

Hours later, Iselda and Cornifer sat on the edge of the Lake of Unn, gazing out onto the lake. The acid spat and hissed, but the sight of the green lake seemed eerily beautiful. The couple watched as the Aluba gracefully dived and flew above the waters, playing with each other as the day wore on.

Iselda looked over to Cornifer, who sat raptly and watched the scene with interest. She smiled, before gently pulling him closer to her. He jumped at the sudden grip, before looking up and smiling at her.

“Was this a good day dearest?” Cornifer whispered to her. Iselda planted a kiss on the top of his head, murmuring back:

“It’s always a good day with you, Corny.”

“Quirrel was quite odd, wasn’t he?” Iselda said nothing for a moment. She couldn’t deny that the strange bug had been on her mind since he left them at the door to the Teacher’s Archives.

“Hm. He was…”

“I truly enjoyed speaking with him. He does seem to know his history.” Iselda absently wondered why. But instead of responding so, she kissed Cornifer’s head again.

“Well, maybe we should visit him again soon. The both of us,” she clarified. Nice as Quirrel was, she still didn’t trust him. Cornifer nodded and cuddled in closer.

And so, the two sat and watched, in silence or in meaningless chatter. They’d go back to the shop, find it untouched, and perhaps go on more adventures in the coming days. But this moment right here…. This would be a day they would treasure for years to come.

What better day than to spend it with one who you love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was going to be a lot shorter... but Quirrel kind of came in and stole the show. Obviously, he'll get his own chapter, but apparently that's not enough for the greedy little bug.
> 
> ... plus it was fun to make up things that they did at the Teacher's Archive. I can't claim credit for the idea that Uumuu and their ilk store information by the way. That goes to... huh. After googling it, I can't find the originator of the idea. If anybody wants to help me with that, I'll gladly credit them. It was such a cool idea that I had to expand on it. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!


	7. The End of the Infection: Sealed Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The path is opened. One way or another an end awaits inside.  
I won't be joining you in this. That space is built to sustain your likes. Its bindings would drain me were I to join.  
Don't be surprised. I'll not risk my own life in your attempt, though if the moment presents I'll aid as I'm able.
> 
> Ghost of Hallownest, you possess the strength to enact an end of your choosing. Would you supplant our birth-cursed sibling, or would you transcend it?"

The body of the Hollow Knight crashed to the ground, the will that moved their limbs gone. They lay there, broken and battered on the black stone of the Black Egg. Tendrils of void lashed from the floor, devouring the orange spores floating absently in the air. Ghost could only watch with a tired detachedness. What point was there, if they couldn’t even save their siblings?

_No. This was for something. Even if we die, Hallownest… everyone here will survive_. Ghost thought to themselves. They took a step towards the center of the room, and Elderbug flashed across their mind. They felt something stir inside them, a strange light, as they remembered his faint smile and the murmur when presented with the flower_ (“Perhaps dreams aren’t such bad things after all…”)_. Another step, and Sly came to mind.

The light deep within their gut roiled and stirred, as each step was accompanied by another flash of the friends they had made in Hallownest. Step. Salubra. Step. Lemm. Step. Quirrel. Iselda. Cornifer. Mato. Sheo. Ogrim. Step. Step. Step.

The final step finished with a flash of the one who had accompanied and harried them throughout their journey. As they stood in the center of the room, they remembered Hornet’s glare, her battle cries, her grief… and they couldn’t stop themself from looking over at her prone form, alive but unconscious.

WHAT…? WHERE…? YOU!!

The voice echoed within their mind, quiet and weak. Ghost could feel her, deep inside of them. With a vindictive mental shove, they pushed her deeper, drowning her words. _Be quiet. I don’t want to hear you_.

VESSEL, I WILL DEVOUR YOU! YOU CANNOT STOP THE LIGHT FROM RETURNING!

The Radiance surged up, struggling against Ghost’s will. With an almost trivial effort, they summoned the Void within them, focused and pure, and drowned her in it. The light within their mind fizzled, but remained. _Who cares. You’ll be trapped soon_.

As if on cue, the temple of the Black Egg groaned. Chains shot from the ceiling, impaling the ground around them. Ghost flung their head back, pitch-black eyes on the ceiling. As the chains began to wrap around them, they felt their eyes heat up. An orange glow began to spill from their sockets.

NOT AGAIN! NO, NO, NO! The Radiance screamed. They felt her swing all her might against them, the light intensifying the temple into bright day for a moment. Ghost could sense her triumph.

_I said to shut up. Haven’t you done ENOUGH?!_ Ghost snapped their head down, looking at the ground and Focused. Their void swirled around the Radiance, unable to get closer without her purifying it. She laughed as she tried to purge the void from the empty vessel.

She had won against the Abyss so many times. She was the light, and all this darkness was simply unorganized shadow!

But she had never triumphed against a unified Void before.

In an instant, the light in Ghost’s eyes flickered, and was swallowed up. The liquid darkness inside of them lashed out once, cutting through her light and wrapping around her. She screamed in pain as it burned.

_Good._ Ghost listened to her scream, thinking of Myla and her poor deteriorating mind.

The chains, before merely content to wrap around Ghost, now lifted them above the ground. More chains dove in, wrapping snugly but not uncomfortably around them. The rattling of the chains faded, silence replacing it… before a great thud echoed through the room.

The Temple of the Black Egg had been shut.

The Radiance was once again trapped.

\--

Throughout Hallownest, the infection began to die. The corpses driven by the infection simply fell to the ground, disintegrating into dust. The traitor Mantis tribe found themselves without their beloved strength… worse, they were crippled and scarred from their mutations.

The Infected Crossroads, almost instantly, began to wither. The impossible orange growths wizened and popped with tiny sounds, the creatures around them following suit. Every nearby cave echoed with the sound of the dying infection.

Their link to their goddess was gone. In less than an hour after the Black Egg sealed itself, the kingdom was once again the preserved corpse it always had been.

Nothing new grew there. Nothing old died there. It would be what it always was.

Through the siblings, Hallownest lasts eternal.

\--

YOU… VESSEL… YOU ARE MY ANCIENT ENEMY. YOU ARE THE UNITY OF THE VOID!

Ghost did not have the ability to snort in derision. In fact, they weren’t even sure they could breathe… at all. They couldn’t even approximate the sound, since they didn’t even have a mouth, unlike Hornet (And wasn’t that fascinating when she had eaten a Tiktik in front of them?).

They gave their best shot at a mental equivalent of it anyway. Then again for good measure.

… WHAT?

The Radiance peered at Ghost from within them, her gaze warm upon them. Ghost began looking at the ground very pointedly.

She may have been absorbed by them, and thus inside them, meaning they couldn’t look away from her… but she couldn’t miss what they were doing.

ARE… ARE YOU IGNORING ME?

Ghost began wondering if things had changed out there. Would the infection just slowly waste away without the Radiance? Would it go dormant, wait for her to come back?

_Maybe someone will have to physically clear it out now that she can’t access it. Who though? Sly might do it if he gets paid, but who would…_ Ghost absentmindedly began running through a list of people with the drive and the skills to do so. As they began listing names in their head, they could feel the Radiance grow angrier and angrier.

WELL, CONGRATULATIONS. YOU ARE OFFICIALLY MORE INTERESTING THAN THE FAILED VESSEL, EVEN IF YOU ARE MANY TIMES MORE IMPERTINENT!

_Ogrim definitely would. But would he leave the waterways? He’s still looking after Isma’s grove…_

ARE YOU GOING TO CONTINUE TO IGNORE ME VESSEL? YOU CANNOT STOP ME FROM BREAKING FREE. THE LIGHT CANNOT BE CONSUMED BY THE VOID.

_Zote would try. I almost wish I could see it! He’d probably hurt himself. Somehow._

A deep sigh came from within Ghost’s mind. The Radiance stopped talking, and just started to swell with light. Unable to muster the power she had before, only the faintest glow appeared in their eyes. She then began poking at the walls in Ghost’s mind, exploring her new prison.

Almost instantly, she was met with a retaliation of the void, striking back at her. She retreated, sputtering as Ghost ceased their monologue. They projected their anger at her, before returning to think of who would clear the infection.

THIS IS WHAT I’M STUCK WITH. THIS IS WHAT I HAVE TO BREAK FREE OF? A CHILDISH VESSEL? The Radiance wondered aloud. Ghost continued to ignore her, this time rolling their head from side to side, trying to work out a kink in their carparace.

BREAKING FREE SHOULD NOT TAKE NEARLY AS LONG, The Radiance decided.

Both of their attention, however, was quickly diverted as a scraping sound came from behind them. Forcing their head to turn at an unnatural angle (They were fine, their head was not supposed to bend that way, but they would focus and fix it soon), they looked for the sound. There was Hornet, scratching at the wall as she struggled to stand. Despite having no visible injuries, she huffed and gasped for air. She slowly looked up at Ghost.

“Little Ghost… I thought you had sought to transcend our Sibling, not supplant it!” She rasped, her breath shallow. Ghost watched helplessly. What was happening to her?

As if to answer, Hornet bent and coughed. The spasm wracked her whole body, and she spat out a gob of black fluid. It splattered the ground, and Hornet simply looked at it, uncomprehending.

AH, I UNDERSTAND NOW. The Radiance murmured. SHE IS MADE OF GOD-BORN FLESH, OR AT LEAST PART OF HER IS. THAT IS WHY SHE CAN SUSTAIN HERSELF, EVEN FOR SUCH A SHORT TIME, IN HERE.

_What?!_ For once, Ghost cursed their ability not to speak. They had always made do with hand gestures, pointing and grabbing but now, bound as they were… _What is happening to her, you overgrown moth?_

Hornet stumbled away from the wall, walking unsteadily. She slowly staggered over to the corpse of the Hollow Knight, still laying on the ground. In the quiet of the Black Egg, Ghost could only watch helplessly as she sat down hard. Her back to the body, Hornet stared at Ghost.

“Ah, poor Hollow… I had met you so briefly back when I was young… I am sorry for your cursed existence…” Without removing her eyes from Ghost, she placed a hand on the dead Vessel’s arm. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…”

IT IS QUITE SIMPLE, VESSEL. THE VOID IS THE ANTITHESIS OF LIFE, OF LIGHT, OF MIND. IT IS THE ENEMY OF ALL SAPIENCE, NOT JUST ME. Ghost half-listened, dismayed as Hornet (Oh so tough Hornet, who killed their Sibling, who had threatened their life, who had only shown sadness when her own mother had died) laughed softly.

“I… was so ready to end this infection. I had sacrificed my duty to protect this kingdom… I risked my own life…” Here she paused to cough again, spitting more of the black liquid out. Ghost started struggling against their chains, only stopping when Hornet glared at them.

MY, WHAT A TEMPER. SHE IS CERTAINLY ONE OF THE WYRM’S. The Radiance laughed softly to herself.

“Stop, Little Ghost,” Hornet commanded. “Are you trying to break free? Are you trying to ruin everything we just worked for?”

_It’s not worth it if you die, you idiot! You’re my sibling too!_ Ghost screamed inside their head. They nodded repeatedly. Hornet screamed at that, a low scratching sound, before weakly throwing her nail at them. It clattered to the ground only a few feet in front of her.

Her head fell to her hands, as she started crying softly. Her shoulders heaved rapidly as she coughed and cried and just couldn’t stop herself. Ghost stared, feeling their heart tearing in two.

SHE IS SUFFERING FROM THE VOID. IT WILL EAT THE LIGHT WITHIN HER… HER SOUL. THE SOUL SHE USES IN HER SPELLS. The Radiance noted quietly.

SHE WILL BE LIKE YOU WERE AT THE START. EMPTY. EVEN IF SHE RECOVERS… SHE WON’T BE THE SAME.

Hornet’s sobs filled the room, the only sound. But even that was muffled, swallowed up in the walls of void, the darkness devouring the sound. Her coughs occasionally punctuated them, sharp and loud. Ghost could only stare in helplessness.

_She needs to get out… but how?_ Ghost thought to themselves. They looked at the door to the chamber. There, the door was tightly shut. But even beyond that, the Black Egg had even more Void behind it, and a greater door shut by the strongest magics of the Weavers and the Pale King. How could they open it?

I COULD OPEN IT. IF I HAD THE FREEDOM TO DO SO. The Radiance noted, absentmindedly. IT WOULD HAVE TO BE GRANTED TO ME QUICKLY THOUGH. MUCH LONGER, AND THE GIRL MIGHT NOT RECOVER AT ALL.

Ghost thought for a second. They… could save Hornet? This Higher Being, who had caused so much pain and suffering (Myla losing control of her own body, pickaxe swinging, the reanimated Sibling, the infection pulsing out of it’s mask, Hollow hanging above them glaring down without any of their own will) would actually help them?

OF COURSE, I EVEN PROMISE TO LEAVE YOUR BODY AFTERWARDS, The Radiance softly cooed to Ghost. The sound of her voice felt like a slimy hand on their mask, slowly sliding down. I WILL LEAVE YOUR KINGDOM AND NEVER RETURN. THERE ARE NONE OF MY MOTHS HERE ANYWAY, AND THE WYRM IS GONE.

It… was tempting… so very tempting. Ghost could just imagine breaking free of these restraints, emerging victorious…

_And watch as you destroy more lives? Hallownest is fine without you_, Ghost snidely thought at the Old Light. The Higher Being gave the impression of a shrug.

THEN WE SHALL WATCH HER EMPTY. AT LEAST SHE WON’T DIE. ONLY A FATE FAR WORSE, VESSEL.

Hornet’s sobs had quieted, only leaving her ragged breathing. She sat there, quietly, still. It was unlike her, Ghost thought uneasily. Everytime they had seen her, she had been moving so swiftly, never stopping for the little Vessel. Always doing something, always on the move. Slowly, Hornet lifted her head, straining with the effort.

“Little Ghost… I gave up my mother for this…” She whispered. Ghost felt guilt build at the back of their mind. “I will lose my life to this… place. Promise me one thing…” Her hands fell to the side, and her head slouched. She kept her eyes on Ghost still, not moving. “… I promised… her I would… keep Deepnest’s future safe… Can you keep… Her imprisoned?”

Ghost stared for a second before nodding. _She won’t escape as long as I’m here_. The Radiance snorted in the back of their mind. Hornet relaxed at that, and sighed, her head dropping farther.

“Good… Good… I suppose that… this end could have been worse…” And with that, Hornet’s breathing slowly evened out. It morphed from the ragged breathing of a great struggle… to the deep breaths of the sleeping.

Hornet, daughter of Herrah the Beast and the Pale King, princess of Deepnest… was gone. Her body continued to live, but she was gone.

HOW PITIFUL. TRULY, YOU ARE A DESPICABLE LIAR, VESSEL.

_SHUT! UP!_ With a fierce war cry in their mind, Ghost cloaked themselves in Void. Feeling the united power of the Abyss behind them, they swarmed their insides with the fluid, causing the Radiance to scream in agony. Slowly, Ghost fed memories of those they loved to the Void, keeping the liquid swirling inside. One by one, those they had lost and those they wanted to protect still filled Ghost with such unbearable rage, that the Void bubbled ferociously inside of them.

And when they ran out of memories to use…

They recalled it all over again. They relived every second of their journey, every painful moment, and once again fed it to the Void. Their internal darkness swirled and roiled without stopping. The Radiance’s screams did not diminish, as she was constantly battered about by the waves.

_We will stay here. Together. Forever._

\--

It is difficult to measure time in a place of stasis. Hallownest has not changed, despite time having definitely passed. Dirtmouth remains on the edge of the Kingdom, holding those too frightened to descend or those merely there from interest. The City of Tears continues with it’s endless rain. Deepnest swarms with the bugs that recognize no leader but the strong.

And the Temple of the Black Egg still remains shut, the mask of Hornet, last princess of Deepnest, emblazoned on it. Inside, the bodies of the Hollow Knight and their half-sibling lay, untouched by life or decay. Above them, hangs the last of their living siblings, still strong, still focusing. Ghost is not empty; but they are the perfect Vessel to hold the Radiance. What one could not do with emptiness, they do with love, hate and a promise.

A promise to keep to their siblings.

And throughout Hallownest, nothing new grows. Nothing old would die here. The Kingdom remains locked in an eternal stasis, a corpse on the edge of rotting but never quite reaching it…

Whatever was here, would remain here forever. Unchanged.

In that Black Egg, through their sacrifice, Hallownest lasts eternal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, this is one of the scenes that had me wanting to write this story. The thought of the Sealed Siblings ending is just so sad to me. Hornet is trapped with Ghost? After she explicitly stated she wanted to end the cycle, not become a part of it? 
> 
> More to the point, Hornet is a creature that cannot survive in the Black Egg like the Vessels. What tragic thing would happen to her in there?
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed!


End file.
